Of Charcoal and Rose
by ann no aku
Summary: Completed! As Severus Snape runs errands for Dumbledore, he finds himself always running into a Muggle woman whom ends up in his arms.
1. Chapter One

Of Charcoal and Rose

By: ann no aku

**General Disclaimer:**  Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Chapter One**

**Author's Note:**  Depending on whether or not this story is a success determines whether I am going to post the rest of it.  All but the four alternate endings of this story have been written; I just am typing it up now.  I had written this just for myself, but a friend of mine said that I should post it.  If it is not that successful, I do not know if I will post the other chapters.  If some feel as though the rest is needed for survival, I will strongly consider it.  Please enjoy this little romantic story between Severus Snape and my own character Claudia Wallace.  If you have seen the movie _Truly, Madly, Deeply you can see that side of Alan Rickman in this story.  If this does seem out of character for Snape, I suppose that is because as readers we do not know the Snape outside of Hogwarts.  Personally I see him as a very passionate man whom just decides to hide it out of fear that people will take advantage of him and hurt him.  Snape is a very defensive if not paranoid man.  Thanks!_

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            Claudia Wallace always dreaded taking the underground on Saturday mornings, especially in the rain.  Constantly they were crowded, and she hardly had the patience to deal with it.  She was already running behind even as she was desperately trying to catch the eleven-thirty ride back to West London.  It was most difficult considering she was carrying an oversized bag which was carelessly filled with three large boxes.  The idiot at the counter had placed the biggest and heaviest parcel on top, and Claudia did not have the time to even think about putting the bag down to reorder the chaos.  Loose cobblestones appeared out of nowhere trying to trip her as she raced madly to the stairs and gliding over the slick ground.  _I wouldn't be late; she thought wryly,__ if the tailor had been open on time.  She fished out her metro pass and slid it in the slot before walking through the gate to enter the station.  Just as she sighed in relief that she had managed to arrive to the station safely, her sub started up in preparation to leave.  It was moving by the time her body was fully inside of the car._

            Her shoes and nylons were covered in dirty water and mud, not to mention that her hair was a mess and matted down to her wet face.  Some rain had even seeped into the cardboard boxes in her bag.  _Probably ruining my clothes, she mused and found that even after her bad morning she could still smile.  She looked about the car and noticed that there was not a single seat left open.  Her purchases felt like they were made of lead, and she was exhausted from her marathon trying to make the train.  No one even bothered to budge an inch._

            The subway jolted as it increased in speed sending Claudia into the lap of a very sour looking gentleman.  The bag split on the bottom sending her boxes to the dirty floor.  The slit in her skirt tore up her thigh revealing a bit more than what was decent.  Crimson stained her cheeks.  "E-Excuse me, Sir!" she exclaimed and struggled to stand up, using his bony knees to steady herself.  "I am sorry.  I, uh-"  Her damp packages toppled over in her grasp.  It was useless trying to stuff them in the broken shopping bag which she quickly dismissed and left on the floor.  She looked up at him for a brief moment; her soft steel eyes met his cold black embers.

            "Would you like to sit down?" the man offered.  He spoke slowly and carefully not hiding the bitterness in his voice.  He immediately took notice of the tear in her skirt and looked away, trying not to stare at her exposed thigh.  The tall gentleman stood up and grabbed a hold of the pole to keep himself steady on the ride.

            "Thank you, Sir," she stammered and tried to conceal her torn grey skirt.  Claudia closed her eyes and silently wished for the world to go away, but it was still there when she opened them again seconds later to her blaring cell phone.  A few annoyed passengers shot her a look letting her know that she was not being courteous to the unspoken rule of keeping all cellular phones on vibrate.  The gentleman who had given up his seat for her even glared at her from behind his long black hair for a brief second.  "Hello?  Oh, good afternoon, Michael!  I beg your pardon?"  Her face fell.  "Oh, no, I hadn't purchased it yet," she nervously tapped on the top box which sat atop her lap.  "N-No, it's alright.  Honest!" she assured.  "I just will not attend."  Claudia winced as the man on the other end raised his voice.  "I will find someone else then.  Cheers."  Her face burned as tears swelled in her eyes.  What had turned out to be a regular Saturday morning was quickly turning into a horrible afternoon.  It could not possibly get worse for her.

            She sighed in annoyance and felt the eyes of the man staring at her.  He could not help but to take notice of the woman's misfortune, not that he really card.  Why should he?  Yet the woman looked upset.  She looked pitiful.  And still the rip was showing her pale skin which normally was hidden beneath her proper attire.  He could not stop the trail in which his curious eyes took up from her crossed ankles to where the tear ended.  Severus could not have been happier when his stop arrived and he could exit the crowded subway.  His black robe brushed against Claudia's arm.  He almost felt relieved when he heard screaming erupting from behind him.  A deep exhale of breath escaped his tightly pressed lips.

            "Stop!  Thief!"

            A young man tightly gripping a fancy purse came running up behind him and nearly sent Severus into a brick wall.  He would have preferred to ignore the situation, but the pitiful looking woman was attempting (very desperately, mind you) to chase down the mugger in her wet dress shoes.  Against almost all he believed in as someone who did not help Muggles (much less anyone else for that matter), he silently performed the leg locking curse.  The robber instantly fell down on the ground as though someone had tied his shoelaces together.  He smiled to himself amused that the man had fallen so quickly.  The robber even had a bloody nose from when he fell.

            "Oi!  I can't move my legs!" he shouted and tried to keep Snape from retracting the stolen purse.  Red droplets stained his face.

            His grin turned malicious as he bent down to snatch the bag.  His face was close to the man's so that his breath penetrated his personal space.  "You must be very in touch with yourself to carry around such a feminine bag."  He stood back up and performed the counter curse so that the Muggle could not hear him.  Snape glanced up and saw the damned clumsy woman slip and land roughly on her kneecaps.  Her ankle was twisted in an odd position.  He could not control the vindictive grin which possessed him.  It was quite amusing to see such a professionally dressed Muggle struggling to stand with a hole in her nylons and blood trickling down her calves.  Still he could not help the pity he felt for her, and he mentally cursed himself for it.  Her legs trembled again as though she was on the verge of collapsing again.

            "Y-You retrieved my purse.  Thank you."  A shaking hand clasped over it and almost greedily grabbed it back.  She fumbled furiously through her wallet and took out a hundred pound note.  "Thank you so much, Sir."

            "I do not need your-" he began, just wanting to walk away and go back home.

            "Please, I feel it is the least I can do.  Today has been very hard for me."  Claudia shifted as she tried to balance her boxes in her arms.  "If you do not accept it, it will only add to my suffering today."  She feigned a smile, trying to make light of the situation.  He was unfazed, and she squirmed under the scrutiny of his stare.  "Is there any other way I can express my gratitude for all you've done?"

            "I really do not think it is necessary-" he tried to tell her, starting to get really annoyed when she kept interrupting him.

            "I could take you to dinner!"  Her cheeks burned as she realized she just blurted out something which sounded very much like a date.  "Rather, to be more specific, an art auction for charity.  I-It'd be free, of course.  My date had just cancelled on me.  Personally, it was silly of me to trust Michael with something as important as this," she mumbled the last part and looked at her shoes.  "Please, Sir, I really have no one else to ask, especially on such short notice.  I'll even pay your cab fare to take you to my house."  She shoved the money back in his hand.  "At least keep that.  I am sorry to ask this of you."

            "No you're not," he interjected and stuffed the bill into his breast pocket.  His calculating gaze made her uncomfortable.

            "W-What?" she stammered turning even a deeper red.  The embarrassment of the situation was overwhelming.  _I must look pathetic, she decided.  Claudia then took matters into her own hands and shifted through her checkbook, not having time to waltz around the situation at hand.  She had to go to the auction with or without an escort.  She then tore out one of the pages and handed it to him with a determined look on her face.  "H-Here is my address," but her voice had lost the confidence when he continued his questioning glower.  He made her knees weak._

            "Claudia Wallace?" he read holding the slip of paper firmly in his hands.  Her name was so mundane, yet he said it with such a grace that seemed unnatural for him.

            "Yes," she replied and self-consciously tucked a stranded piece of her brown hair behind her ear.  "Please do not lose or misplace it; someone can forge my check."  She cringed as he tore it in two pieces, then relaxed as he handed her half.  He had kept the side with her address on it.  "What is your name, Sir?"

            "Severus Snape," he answered and examined the address label.  If it was him going with her to the art auction, he would have a difficult time finding her home.  Then he supposed that he could take her up on her offer and hitch a cab ride with her taking the fare.  Secretly, he had a passion for art as well as music.  During the school year, he was so enthralled in his work that he had little time to do what he enjoyed beyond potion brewing.  But whenever he saw someone clumsy, it reminded him instantly of his students (for example, Neville Longbottom) and that just irritated him.

            "You have an interesting name.  What is your nationality?"

            "Ms. Wallace," he began slowly his voice as smooth as silk, "I do not have time for small talk.  I have some very important information to deliver somewhere."  Snape spun around on his heel, determined to leave her just then.

            "Could you at least tell me?" she squeaked feeling silly for sounding like a child.

            "Tell you what?" he snapped, practically regretting it when he saw the pain on her face.  Must he always be so curt with people?  He dismissed the thought thinking that it was just natural for him to be that way.  If people found it to be rude and did not like it, then they did not have to like him.  He didn't care either way.

            "I-If you will be at that address this evening at seven o'clock.  If you chose not to, I need to know."  Her entire body trembled in anticipation as she waited for his answer.

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            He had little idea how he had exactly gotten himself into such a mess, but he was in it.  He had been foolish to accept the Muggle's plea albeit she had looked most pitiful and desperate.  It was as though the Whomping Willow itself had been unleashed to attack her.  Still, Severus did not feel sorry for her at all.  After all, it had been her own fault for being quite so clumsy and damned needy.  If she wasn't those, then he wouldn't be suck attending the art auction.  He must've looked like he was in deep thought for Albus had asked him if something was bothering him.

            "You have been standing there in a daze for quite some time now," he said.

            "It's nothing," he quickly responded and shifted uncomfortably under the headmaster's examination.

            "You didn't run into a bit of trouble on the underground, did you?"  Dumbledore smiled at Snape's sneer.  "Happens all the time, I'm afraid.  Hagrid had quite an experience not too long ago."

            "I just am busy, Albus."

            "Ah, you see, I always like to enjoy the last few days of the summer term reading a good book.  The school year gets too hectic for one to relax, and it has been that way since the arrival of Harry Potter.  Don't you agree, Severus?"

            Was the old man trying to get something out of him?  "Of course."

            Dumbledore smiled again and looked up at Snape through his half moon spectacles.  "Well, if that is all, I suppose we are done here.  Thank you for giving me the information I needed, Severus."

            "You're welcome," he acknowledged and finished his tea before picking up a handful of floo powder and entering the fire place.  He would have much preferred disapparating, but the headmaster did not allow it on his grounds.  The floo was far too messy and sometimes not an exact science such as apparation and disapparation.  "Snape Estate," his voice boomed and he was instantly transported back to his large abode.  It had been in the family for centuries (since as early as the 13th century), and still looked brand new.

            He lived alone for he had no need for servants.  The house was large, but only one person ever made a mess.  He enjoyed cleaning as a way to create order within the chaotic life he lived.  He looked about his den and saw just how lonely it looked, if not a little dark.  It was a stone mansion with high ceilings and at least six bedrooms and four bathrooms.  He had no use of all the rooms and used a few of them to store his potions and plants when the greenhouse was filled.  Back when he was a child, the house was always alive with guests coming from all over to listen to the music his mother had played.  Those times were gone since Voldemort had ordered her to be killed as well as his devoted father.  The atmosphere was always cold now and the environment had changed drastically since his parents had died.  There was no purpose to throw parties if no one could play music or entertain the guests.  Besides, who would want to attend a social gathering with him as the host?  Him who was a former Death Eater?

            Snape sighed and made himself a shot of scotch.  He had never been too much of a drinker, but sometimes it was most helpful.  His hand found a book as he set down his empty glass.  It was a gift from his father when he was a third year at Hogwarts The Passions of Potion Making by Fumus Halare.  He was about to flip through the soft pages when his grandfather clock chimed five o'clock.  He was too tired to get up from his comfortable chair, but Severus was not one to break a promise to someone.  He might be a bit of a vindictive man, but he could never bring himself to betray those whom truly mattered.  And Ms. Wallace was expecting him to be at her house in two hours, not that she truly mattered to him.  It would be cruel to force her to end her horrid Saturday even worse than it was already.  He had no clue as to what to even wear for it had been years for him since he had to dress nicely.  It had not been since his parents' deaths during his last year of school.

            "May God have mercy on their souls," the priest had said and looked to Severus whom had been a young man of only eighteen at the time.  "Severus," he had begun after the service, "This is not your fault.  There was no way you could have known it would be your parents.  I know that you are not a religious man, you never have been, but please accept that this is not your responsibility.  This had nothing to do with you."

            But it had, hadn't it?  His parents had just come home from their anniversary in Germany, and his mother was stepping off of the train laughing as his father had pulled her into a kiss.  He had been there.  He had seen his parents die for he had been sent there to ensure the plan went ahead as commanded.

            The priest had placed a comforting hand on his arm almost as he knew what secret lay under his sleeve.  "Do not seek revenge.  It will only make you a bitter man."

           Damn the man for being right; he had grown up to be slightly bitter.  As a result of his parents' murders, his loyalties to the Dark Lord had wavered until they became nonexistent.  When he was twenty four, he had turned to Dumbledore for sanctuary and offered to inform him what he knew about the Death Eaters in return.  Even though the old man had said that he did not need to tell him anymore than he wanted, Severus could not help but to feel that he owed his life.  It had been his fault they were dead.  It was his fault all those whom were killed had died.

            The sound of the fire popping in the fireplace pulled him back into reality.  He had been sitting in a daze for nearly half an hour leaving him even less time to get ready.  Not to mention he still had to hitch a cab ride to wherever it was the Muggle dwelled.  He suspected it would be a large home, like his, only with much more life and color.  It would not be as chilly or lonely, either.  Snape slowly ascended up the stone stairs and walked down the long hallway to his bedroom.  He pushed open the tall oak doors and threw his robe on his four poster bed.  He then unbuttoned his tunic and undershirt removing his clothes until he was fully undressed.  The warm water from the shower soothed his numbed senses as he scrubbed away the day.

            After shifting through his closet, he finally decided on a pair of black slacks, a crushed white shirt, and a grey neck sash.  He added a black dress jacket and a cane in which he concealed his wand.  He studied himself in the mirror, hoping his reflection would have the intelligence not to greet him with some snide remark.  It had been in vain for in fact his reflection did comment on how for the first time in years his hair did not look greasy and how well he had managed to clean up.  "Thank you," he stiffly replied.

            "A tone like that will get you nowhere," the image said.  "You have a date, I imagine?"

            "Shut up," he spat, not wanting to think of what he was doing as a date.  Instead he was already doing his charity work for the year by being the escort of the strange Muggle.  Was the woman really going to be happy after acting quite so dependent earlier?  He slipped on his coat and disapparated to the Leaky Cauldron from where he exited and flagged down a taxi.  Severus handed the drive the half of the check with the address on it and leaned back into the seat of the uncomfortable 'taxi'.

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            "Hurry, Ms. Claudia, it is almost seven!" rushed her hired help Mary.

            "I am not still positive if I even have an escort, Mary.  The gentleman from the station did not even call to assure me that he will be going.  He's probably going to be late," she said and fought with her shoes as she laced the satin ribbon around her calves.

            "Oh, but he's here!  Your date just pulled up in a cab!" she yelled from down the stairs.

            "Escort, Mary, I am sure that he is only doing this out of pity.  I feel silly for even have asked him!  I should have just gone alone."

           "It is too late now, Ms. Claudia.  He is handsome," Mary commented before quickly answering the door.

            "Yeah, right," she sighed then found herself thinking of his eyes.  She thought of the deep dark abysses that held the window to his soul.  _But he's so shadowed,_ she thought, _so dark._

            "Good evening, Mr. Snape," Mary greeted the man.  "Ms. Claudia has told me all about how you helped her this morning.  Remarkable, I must say.  It is hard to find gentleman anymore.  Please, come in!  May I take your jacket?"  She closed the door behind him.

            "I have it," he assured and enveloped himself in the luxurious surroundings.  The house was as he had thought and more.  He tried to keep the permanent scowl he always bore off his face and just keep a thin smile on instead.  It was easier said than done.

            "Ms. Claudia is almost ready.  She had been wondering whether you'd show."

            "Mary, is he-"  Claudia peered down from the top of the stairs to the door.  "You're here."  Her face lit up in amusement.  _Mary__ was right, he does look handsome.  He cleans up quite well._

            "You look so fabulous!" Mary happily exclaimed.  "Too bad Michael-"

            "Please, let us not discuss him."  She stumbled slightly on the last step.  "I love your suit," she blushed.  "We have a few minutes, I imagine, would you care for some tea?"

            "No time!  Come no, Ms. Claudia, you have not your purse nor your coat."  The older woman pulled out a large charcoal coat from the hall closet and slipped it on her mistress fastening the buttons just below her bosom to her lower torso.  "Marvelous!  I truly love the way the gown and coat match your eyes!"  Snape was instantly reminded of an over enthused house elf, particularly Winky.

            Her cheeks turned the same delicate rose as the sheer fabric trim along her jacket.  As she approached her guest, he could smell the light scent of honey suckles emanating from her neck.  He averted his gaze from the naked trail leading to her bosom.  "Where is my bag, Mary?" she asked, looking out the window by the door.  "The chauffer is here."

            "Oh, right."  Her servant rushed back to the kitchen and pulled the beaded satchel from the table and handed it to her.  "Have a lovely time, dear."

            "Thank you."

            "And your job, Mr. Snape, is to ensure that she does."  Mary saw them off and watched as the driver opened the doors for them.  Claudia entered first, then her guest.  Neither spoke until the Rolls Royce pulled out onto the main road.

            "I had meant to ask you, Mr. Snape, what is it that you do?  Your profession, I mean."

            "I teach," he set his cane down on the floor and propped it up against the door.

            "Really?  How fascinating!  What class do you teach?"

            "Chemistry," he replied, not exactly lying to the woman.

            "You must have a lot of patience to deal with children, especially around such a dangerous course as chemistry with the mixing of chemicals and all.  They do have a lot of potential, children do, but they feel intimidated to show it because of their peers and sometimes their own professors, and chemistry is a demanding class.  What you do is very noble, Mr. Snape.  I imagine you are not one of those professors whom intimidates your students," she said with a smile.

            "Not all students can be intimidated," he replied rather sarcastically personally referring to one student in particular.

            "Well you teach a rather stubborn age range.  Teenagers are more defiant than anyone else, and they hate to be embarrassed in front of their peers.  At what school do you teach?"

            "It is a private school out in the country," Snape said not quite answering her question.  He hoped that she would not persist with inquiries about the school.

            "Do you enjoy it?"

            "I beg your pardon," he turned to look at her.  The woman sure was curious.

            "W-Well I would love to teach," she elaborated.  Something about him made her so nervous!

            "If you are wondering if I get a joy out of it," he started, "It is not quite the job I had wanted."

            "Would you mind me asking you what you'd rather be doing?"  Claudia toyed with the clasp on her purse to keep her from staring at him.  She blushed under the study of his harsh eyes.

            "I'd rather teach something that has more meaning," Snape admitted.  He was about to ask what she did for a living, but the vehicle slowed down in front of an exquisite convention center.  It was upscale with high ceilings and red wine carpeting.  It reminded him of the parties his family used to have when he was younger.  The music was even to his liking having grown up listening to classical.  He hadn't expected the dining hall to be as brilliant as it was, but the room glowed from the large chandelier hanging from the middle of the room.

            The art auction was actually in fact not as he had expected either.  Instead of selling off famous works, it was a bunch of local art to help pay for a new homeless shelter and soup kitchen for central London.  One noteworthy piece had captured his eye, reminding him of something from his past.  It was an all grey painting of a woman exiting a train into a crowded station with a one point perspective.  The woman stood out for she was the only figure in color; she wore a dress of a faint pink.  The picture was surreal and drew him into the pale blue eyes of the lady in rose.  He found that he could not remove his eyes from it.

            "Sold, for ₤500!" the auctioneer exclaimed and banged his gavel against the wooden plate.

            "That was my favorite one, too," she mumbled not thinking that Snape could hear her.

            "You should have bid then."

            "It was only a copy, besides I have too much artwork in my house as it is."

            "You're a collector?" he asked with a pique of interest.

            "Did you like the painting?" she inquired, ignoring his question.  She had noticed his black eyes become alive as soon as the work had been revealed on the platform.

            "It is interesting."

            The rest of the evening progressed smoothly and the meal was no less than exceptional.  Claudia hadn't expected herself to have such a nice time with the stranger, and was happy when he agreed to waltz with her.  He was a much better dancer than she had originally thought for he had the graceful moves of an eel.  She had figured him to be rather rigid and wondered if maybe he had been forced to take classes as a child to dance quite so beautifully.  "You're a marvelous dancer," she complimented but he said nothing in return.  After a couple of slow waltzes, she excused herself to make a quick telephone call.

            After the auction, the two made their way back to her house both exhausted from eating such a fulfilling meal and from dancing as much as they had.  "Won't you please come in for a cup of tea?" she offered, noticing his hesitation.  Claudia was pleased when he agreed and soon found that he did not like the lavender tea she had prepared.  It had too much of a bite for his taste, so he tried to drown the flavor with a warm biscuit she had made with the drink.

            "I feel that I am forever in your debt, Mr. Snape, for you had not only given up your seat for someone whom had fallen into your lap," she began with red staining her cheeks, "But you even reluctantly agreed to share your evening with me at an art auction."  She set her mug back into its saucer.

            "It is alright," Severus guaranteed, not quite telling the truth.  Granted he had had a wonderful time, it was not exactly something he did anymore.  He finished the tea and pastry, meeting her eyes from across the oak table.

            "No, I feel that," she paused.  "I-I have something for you.  It is a thank you gift.  It's upstairs; won't you come up and take a look?"  Claudia led the way to the studio room and removed her coat, placing it over her folded arms.  A large couch covered in a white sheet sat against the wall furthest from the door and it had a big canvas wrapped in brown paper sitting on top of it and leaned into the back of the couch.  "It's a painting."

            "You are giving me something you've acquired?" he questioned, running a hand along the contours of the packaged painting.

            "Sort of," she said and that caught his attention.  "I had painted that one, actually.  I could tell from the way you looked at the works this evening that you are obviously passionate about art."  As she neared him a sharp pain shot through her tender ankle sending her towards the floor.  A strong pair of arms supported her fall and held her.  "I am sorry.  I must've twisted my ankle earlier today trying to catch the thief in high heels.  Silly, right?"  Her words came out in a low whisper for she could barely speak while still in his grasp.

            He helped her stand back up and had no time to react to the soft pair of lips which met his for the briefest of moments.  Severus wanted so very much to pull back, but in doing so the woman would fall back onto her injury.  Instead he just continued to support her light frame and tried to keep her from getting that close to him again.

            "Thank you," she murmured.

            "Sit down," he instructed and set her on the couch.  He was unsure exactly what came over him next, but he found himself crouched down in front of her.  "Which ankle is it?"

            "The left one," she replied and wondered what he was going to do.  Claudia suddenly felt very warm, more so as he slid her dress up to her knees and started to unlace the ribbon of her shoes.  The bow unraveled itself in his hands and the rose satin slipper gently glided off her slightly swollen ankle.

            "This will hurt," Snape said and began to massage her sore.  From the amount of swelling, he could tell that she had sprained her foot.  As if out from some place he had once assumed to be long gone, he started to mumble the incantation of a healing spell.  Heat radiated from his hands wrapping it around the torn tendon.  The spell had surprisingly worked better than he had thought it would, especially since he did not use his wand.

            "You should be an orthopedist."

            "Don't walk on it just yet.  Your ankle is still tender from the massage," he lied.  He could not risk having himself anymore exposed than he already was.  He should not have even healed the damn injury!  So why had he?  Severus draped his arms about her to support her as they walked to her bedroom.  She directed him through the empty hallway and through the French doors to her room.  He laid her on her large four poster bed.  "I should be going now."

            "Wait," she sat up, "How can I get into contact with you?"

            "I am busy during the school year," he replied and left the room without another word leaving Claudia feeling confused.  He had almost forgotten the painting when he was prepared to disapparate back to his home.  Severus walked back up the stairs and picked up the parcel, then disappeared home.  He just stared at it before deciding to unwrap it, wondering what exactly the Muggle could have painted that would interest him.  It felt good to not have to pretend to be entertained anymore.

            His breath caught in his throat as the paper slid down to the wooden floor of his library.  It was the painting he had seen at the art auction, and the woman was staring right through him as she propped herself up on her lace umbrella looking as though she knew he was looking at her.  It looked like a still photograph; a rarity he had seen so few of in his life.  Ms. Wallace was the artist of the painting, and she had given him the original.

            He found his old dusty brown owl and attached a piece of parchment he had been scribbling on then added a single white rose with blushed tips.  Severus had never been given such a gift in his life from anyone outside of his (now deceased) family.  No one had even bothered to take any interest (feigned or not) what he liked with the exception of the ordinary Muggle woman.  Normally he would have been upset if not a little angry that someone was starting to read him like a journal, but he discovered that it did not bother him as much as he had thought it would.  It was nice to have someone care about him as a person versus an employee or professor.  How many years had it been since someone even took a pursuit in seeing the man behind the black smoking cauldron?

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            Miss Claudia Wallace awoke the next morning to a fond nibbling on her knuckles.  She opened up her eyes and much to her amazement there was an owl sitting next to her on her bed.  "Oh, good morning!  How'd you get in here?" she asked it, pausing to pet its velvety feathers.  "Is this for me?"  She untied the piece of string which held a piece of paper to the bird's foot.  "Are you a messenger owl?"

            The bird squawked and nudged the flower towards her using its peeling beak.  "What is that you have?"  Her fingers fastened around the rose's stem and brought it to her nose.  "It smells wonderful."  She shivered as a strong gust of cool wind blew into the room.  "I don't suppose you opened the window yourself, did you?"  Claudia beamed and stroked the owl again.  "Do you want me to read this to you?" she continued to talk to the owl as though it could understand her.  She unrolled the parchment and read the words aloud:

Thank you

It was the last time she heard from the mysterious stranger with the passionate black eyes.

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This is the end of chapter one.  I hope that you had thoroughly enjoyed reading my story.  It does focus a lot more on the wizard universe later on, but right now is just the introduction of characters and their interactions with one another.  Please feel free to review or flame.  Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

~ann no aku


	2. Chapter Two

Of Charcoal and Rose

By: ann no aku

**General Disclaimer:**  Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Chapter Two**

**Author's Notes:**  Thank you Serenditpity, Eclipse of Starz, tirzasnape, Bucky, *me* (whoever you are), and Troy08.  Troy08 had a question about the Rolls Royce.  To answer that, the Rolls was the chauffeured vehicle used to take Snape and Claudia to the charity art auction.  As for where Snape will hang the painting, you will find out in this chapter.  Sorry it is talking so long to update, but typing up a 67 paged story (with adding stuff of course) is taking forever!  Not to mention I have had tests and quizzes a lot lately, too.  College sucks.

**Warning:**  This chapter contains some situations that are not suitable for children under the age of 17!  Please do not read if inappropriate situations are not for you.  You may request an altered version and I can supply you with one.  E-mail me with a request.  Thank you.

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            "Good morning, Professor Snape."

            "Headmaster, I did not hear you come in," he looked up from his desk.  "Is there anything I can do for you?"

            "Fascinating painting," Albus commented momentarily ignoring the question at hand.

            "I did someone a favor."

            "Ah, a woman," he smiled.

            "Is it that obvious?" Severus sneered.

            "You have regrets?" Dumbledore asked and waved his hand up towards the hanging art piece.  "I stopped by, Severus, because I need you to do something for me, and I feel that you are the only one whom can do it successfully without raising too many questions.  You are the only one I can trust with this."

            "What do you need me to do?" Snape inquired wondering if it was what he feared.

            "I am expecting someone at the Leaky Cauldron today.  I understand that this is Slytherin's first Quidditch match of the season, but I need you to get the person for me."

            "So it has begun."

            "Afraid so, Severus.  His name is Mundungus Fletcher."

            "I have heard of him," he commented.  "What time do I meet him?"

            "As early as eleven, but Mundungus never quite does arrive on time."  Dumbledore smiled again.  "This is in confidence, Severus, no one can know."

            "I understand, Headmaster."  He watched as he left his office, and then sighed deeply.  Ever since last term, Albus Dumbledore had asked him to portray the role of a Death Eater and going on strange missions to lead to rumors.  In a matter of the two weeks in which the school year had begun, at least a dozen parents had owled complaining about a Death Eater teaching at Hogwarts.  Of course the headmaster denied these accusations and said that Snape was retired from Death Eaters and had been for the past eleven years.  No one believed him, which was the reaction he wanted.

            He slipped on his robe and slid his wand in his pocket.  Having attended a few Death Eater meetings since last term, he knew that they were suspicious about Dumbledore calling up the old gang and they knew that he was to meet someone at the Leaky Cauldron.  Dumbledore knew that sending Snape would make it seem that he was trying to gather facts by pretending to side with him instead of the Death Eaters.  Albus also understood that Voldemort's followers were not dumb, either, so it was going to take a lot of persuasion on Snape's behalf.  Lucky for him, Lucius had personally vouched for him saying that he had been waiting for his friend to come back 'round.

            "I had always known that you never really enjoyed working for that old wizard," he had hissed.  "We should drink to this."  But not all of the other wizards were positive that Severus had turned, especially Voldemort himself.  Snape wasn't even sure if Lucius really believed his own words, but just said it to possibly tarnish him.  Yet they had drunk until the small hours of the morning reminiscing over time past.  It had left him feeling nostalgic for the old times, but also feeling regretful?  _Yes, he thought,_ regretful._  He did not want to miss his old life as a murderer.  He had the blood of his parents on his hands._

            It was the first Hogsmeade weekend so it would not be too awkward if he journeyed there so he could disapparate to Diagon Alley (going directly to the Leaky Cauldron first would be suspicious and Mr. Fletcher was a tardy man).  It was already nearly eleven, he noticed as he checked his time piece.  He could always just loiter through Knockturn Alley and give everyone something to think about.  A devious grin spread across his face.  Severus Snape was very much going to like helping keep the rumor of him being a Death Eater alive.

            He paraded out of his office unable to keep the scary smile off his face.  He brushed past many students, glaring as though all of them were going to lose points for something they had yet to do.  It was invigorating and made him feel alive.  His feet carried him to the trail he had not walked since his final year at Hogwarts, and he arrived at a very busy Hogsmeade.  All of the third years were running around excited about their first visit to the village, and a part of him wanted desperately to ruin it for them.  And he did simply by being there.  It almost made him laugh.

            Snape disappeared behind a tree and disapparated to Knockturn Alley.  The looks on all the students' faces had amused him.  He passed by a few windows of some stores and peered inside, pretending to find interest in what they sold.  He found himself actually entering a few of the shops and handling some of the odd potions.  _I need some more of this;_ he thought and decided to purchase the bottle.  His eye caught the clock in the corner of the store.  It was nearly twelve.  He sighed and decided to check out at the store then make way for the Leaky Cauldron.  Even though he strongly doubted the man would be there, he entered the pub and smelled a familiar sweet scent he could not quite place.  Severus walked past Doris's table and directly to Mundungus Fletcher.

            "Mr. Fletcher," he greeted and took a seat.  His robe floated above him and piled neatly at the wooden floor.

            "So you're the one he sends," Mundungus shot down his scotch and did not hesitate to order another.  Snape ignored the insinuation.

            "Did you happen to see?" he propped up his dirty boots on the table.  Dry mud caked off from the bottom.

            "See what?" Snape hissed.

            "The Muggle!" he whispered.  "Tom says that she entered here by herself."

            "Then she should be escorted out!  She is now a risk to exposing-"

            "Oh, put a sock in it, Severus.  The poor woman came in here just to get warm.  She's drenched!"

            "If the Ministry was to hear about this-"  Snape said, trying to threaten Mundungus.

            "They do not need to know about this as long as Doris uses the _Obliviate_!" Mundungus nearly shouted, trying to be overheard from Tom's yelling.  Apparently he had an argument with her about letting the Muggle see too much.

            "I-I do not mean to be a burden," the Muggle stood up and turned around.  His eyes grew wide as he realized just who the Muggle was.

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            A day didn't seem to pass when the sky didn't fall sending buckets of rain on the city.  Claudia's heel slipped on the wet pavement sending her into an elderly man.  "Oh, excuse me!"  She cursed herself for losing her umbrella on such a rainy day and for being in such a rush to get out of the bookshop.  A slight tug on her elbow caused her to turn around; she faced the man leering at her with lust in his eyes.  He smiled revealing very few teeth and a breath which stunk of liquor.

            "Are you looking for a good time, baby?" he asked tightening his grip around her arm.

            "Let go," she growled wondering just when old men were such perverts!

            "C'mon, doll, there's a dark alley nearby."  He removed a small knife out of his pocket and dug it into her side.

            "Stop!" Claudia screamed and managed to yank herself free, not feeling the sharp blade cut her side.  The man chased after her and pushed her roughly into a large black door.  Her hand slammed against the odd knob and the door opened just under her touch.  She hurriedly entered the shop and wondered if the man would follow her inside.  A deep sigh of relief exited from her mouth as she realized she was safe for the moment.

            The place was warm, dark, and dry.  The pub was as silent as a tomb and all the customers' attention was focused on her.  Claudia came to the conclusion that she must look awful as a result of her rain soaked clothes and blood trickling from her side.  Most of the faces looking at her were hidden behind clouds of smoke, and their eyes glowed orange in the fires of their pipes.  A small blazing flame roared in the center of the pub.  "How'd you get in here?" the bar tender demanded.  He wiped the counter with an old rag while he stared at the sopping Muggle.

            "I-I-"

            "You're not allowed!" he bellowed furiously.

            "A-A man had grabbed hold of me," she began shaking from how cold she was.  Was she catching cold?  "When I had managed to free myself, he pushed me into the door."  Claudia rubbed her hands along her arms.  "Can't I at least wait until he leaves or at the least warm up a bit?  It is pouring out there."

            "Have some tea, dear," an older woman offered and motioned for the tender to brew a cup.  "Sit down by the fire," she ignored the glare from Tom.  "You're injured."  Tom placed the steaming mug on the table and tried not to stare too hard the Muggle.

            "Thank you," Claudia graciously accepted the drink and sipped it feeling relaxed.

            "No problem, dear.  Would you like a pastry, too?"

            "Oh, no thank you."  She melted into the soft wool blanket that the woman placed about her.  "What sort of pub is this?  I've passed this way dozens of times exiting the bookshop, but I have never noticed this place before."

            The backdoor of the Leaky Cauldron burst open.  A tall stout man with a slender pipe entered and looked about his favorite pub.  He looked ridiculous dressed in bright green robes and a matching coned hat.  His wild beady eyes glittered with amusement.  "Mundungus Fletcher!" Tom exclaimed.  "It's been a long time since you've been here—fourteen years?  Ever since You-Know-Who . . ." his voice trailed off.

            "Yes, I've had to uh," he paused as he caught sight of the Muggle recognizing her only as one for she wore no robe and had no hat.  "New hobby, Doris?"

            "It's better than yours," she retorted making allusion to his strong fondness of alcohol.  It had been that way ever since he had to go into hiding.

            "'Fraid I don' know what yer talking 'bout," he said and ordered a scotch on the rocks before plopping down at a small table.

            "That Muggle just walked in here all by herself," Tom informed as he placed the drink on the table.

            "Really?" Mundungus asked, not too interested in anything except his drink.

            "Claims some bloke pushed her or something.  Anyway, she only wants to warm up for a little bit.  As long as Doris performs a memory charm right before she leaves, no harm will be done."

            "You approve?" Fletcher inquired.

            "No, but what can I do?  I can't kick her back out into the rain!"

            "So you're starting to pity the Muggles, too?"

            "My mother is a Muggle born."

            Doris tucked a stray clump of Claudia's wet hair from her face.  "I'm Doris Crockford, by the way.  What is your name, dear?"

            "Claudia Wallace," she answered once she finished her tea.

            "What is it that you do, Ms. Wallace?"

            "I'm an artist."  Her body grew warm and tensed up as a tall slender man dressed in all black passed by her table.  She didn't know who he was, but he made her heart skip a beat.  The gentleman headed straight for the table in which the oddly dressed man Mr. Mundungus Fletcher was sitting.

            "Mr. Fletcher," he greeted and took a seat.  His robe floated above him and piled neatly at the wooden floor.

            "So you're the one he sends," Mundungus shot down his scotch and did not hesitate to order another.  Snape ignored the insinuation.

            "Did you happen to see?" he propped up his dirty boots on the table.  Dry mud caked off from the bottom.

            "See what?" Snape hissed.

            "The Muggle!" he whispered.  "Tom says that she entered here by herself."

            "Then she should be escorted out!  She is now a risk to exposing-"

            "Oh, put a sock in it, Severus.  The poor woman came in here just to get warm.  She's drenched!"

            "Are you warming up any, dear?" Doris asked, placing a soft hand on hers.

            "Y-Yes, but I still have to go out in the rain to flag down a cab.  Is there a phone I can use in here?  My battery died."

            Where had Snape heard that voice before?

            "Poor thing," she sympathized.  "This must not be a good day for you.  Would you like me to wait out with you while you get a 'cab'?"

            "Doris!" Tom hissed.

            "I only want to help her!"  She glanced disapprovingly at the drink in the tender's hand.  "If you give Mundungus too many of those, he'll start hexing everyone."

            "You're just bitter about being turned into a chicken!"  Fletcher exclaimed.

            "I still get feathers sprouting from my back."

            "Now, now, that's enough!" Tom ordered pointing directly to Claudia.  "Doris, you should know better."

            "If the Ministry was to hear about this-"  Snape said, trying to threaten Mundungus.

            "They do not need to know about this as long as Doris uses the _Obliviate_!" Mundungus nearly shouted, trying to be overheard from Tom's yelling.  Apparently he had an argument with her about letting the Muggle see too much.

            "I-I do not mean to be a burden," the Muggle stood up and turned around.  The heat from the fire felt wonderful against her soaked back.

            "Sit back down, dear," Doris instructed, but her words never reached Claudia's ears.

            There he was!  There was the mysterious stranger with the beautiful moves of an eel.  His dead pools looked directly back at her.  It had been three weeks since she had last (and first) seen the gentleman known as Severus Snape.  "I, uh, I'm sorry.  I will go."  She removed the afghan from her still damp body and was about to leave when a man stepped out in front of her.  Her heart raced and her breath caught in her throat.

            He towered over her and looked down at her as though she was an insect he was going to dissect and examine.  His angry eyes looked her over a few times and a sly grin crossed over him as if he had a secret he was going to tell.  "How careless.  Tsk," he rubbed the serpent head knob on his cane.  "Ah, Severus, didn't think I'd run into you here," Lucius said with disappointment.  He smiled again as the Muggle tried to move past him.  "Where do you think you are going, Miss?"

            "That'll be enough, Malfoy!" Tom barked.  "Anyone can enter and leave at his or her own free will!"

            "Really?" he raised an eyebrow.  "I had thought only a selected few were allowed.  His hand roamed to Claudia's face and he cupped her quivering chin.  A gloved thumb lightly caressed her cheek.

           "I-I did not know that this was a member's only pub.  I did not see a sign."  She was too scared to move.  The man was like a walking form of fear that brought it out to those entire he touched.

            "There isn't one," Lucius sneered.  "I think I'll escort this young woman out of here."  His roaming hand slid down her slippery shoulder past her elbow to her wrist.  He smiled as she gasped.

            Severus whispered instructions to Mundungus Fletcher telling him to inform Dumbledore of the situation at hand and that he had to fix it.  No one else would stand up to a Malfoy, and Snape did have an upper hand with being a presumed Death Eater.  Fletcher agreed and said that he'd wait out in Hogsmeade for him at the Screaming Shack.  He then approached Lucius.  "I'll show her the way out," he offered trying to sound convincing.

            "I had almost forgotten how brave you are, Severus.  Lord knows you were there the day your parents," he stopped abruptly.  "Well, need we tell everyone our secrets?"  Lucius face twisted into a triumphant sneer.  "Don't forget, old friend," he pointed to his head and watched them exit with a look of disgust.

            "I-I'm sorry," she apologized once they exited into London.  Claudia was pleased to see that the rain had finally relented.  "What sort of pub was that?"

            "That is none of your concern," he quickly answered.  "Where are you headed?"

            "I have to flag down a cab.  Shame I couldn't get to a phone back in there," she pointed back to the pub but found she couldn't find it.  _Strange,_ she thought,_ it was there a minute ago.  Wasn't it?_  "I do not need you to accompany me, Mr. Snape.  I don't think that man will be after me."

            "What man?" Severus demanded thinking she was making reference to Lucius.

            "Someone had tried to rape me and threw me into the door.  That is why I was inside.  Sorry, I thought you knew.  Seems that everyone else did," she mumbled.

            "You've already caused me enough trouble as it is."

            "Please, Mr. Snape, you are only going to make my day worse by waiting here with me.  Don't be here if it is going to be such a chore."  She plopped down tiredly on a hard bench.  "Well, don't you have somewhere to go?" she hotly shouted suddenly not sounding like the lady from the art auction.

            "Don't make such a fuss," he commanded unsympathetically.  His voice was as cold as the rain which still kept her wet.

            "I was foolish to think that maybe you were a gentleman," Claudia said thinking about his cruel words and strange attire.

            "You can't go by yourself," Snape cautioned recalling the amused look on Lucius's face.  Malfoy would expect him to do something to her, and he needed to be convincing.  It was either what the stupid Muggle wanted or giving away Dumbledore's plan.  He instantly chose the latter.  "I said I'd escort you."

           "Don't play a part if you can't pretend like you want it," she retorted unable to hide the smile on her face.  It amused her to see him get so pent up over such trivial things.

            "Don't be so critical."

            "So you are not going to tell me about the cult meeting in there?"

            "I told you that is none of your concern."  He was really starting to get annoyed with the woman.

            "Then will you tell be about your witch's robe?"

            He shot her a deadly look that made her spine tingle with both fear and laughter.  Snape had almost forgotten he was dealing with a Muggle, but then _what else could annoy him so?  He removed his robe and bundled it up in his hands; he wore a black button up tunic and a pair of black fitted slacks.  "It's a cloak I use to protect my work clothes."_

            "A lab coat," she said.  "It is Saturday, in case you did not know."

            "I work at a boarding school," he snapped.  "I did not have time to change, either.  Your being at the pub put a pause in my plans."

            "Then just leave!" she yelled and was surprised when he held her by the arms.  His grasp was not rough, but it had still scared her.  She felt small beneath his hold on her and like a child.  Her skin tingled where he touched her and her lungs felt as though they could not get enough air.

            "Calm down!" Snape growled.  His face was close to hers and he could feel the heat emanating from her.  It took him all his strength not to even think about her in a romantic fashion.  Who would be interested him?

            "What are you so worried about?" she cried out, mad that he felt he had to be quite so physical with her.  Still, she could not bring herself to pull out of his arms.  Claudia inwardly sighed in relief when he released her.  "You don't have to be so cold, you know.  It is as though it would hurt you to be decent for a day."

            Snape understood that the Muggle knew too much and that he'd have to perform a memory charm on her.  First, he'd have to get her alone somewhere (and that would be the hardest part).  In the meantime, he needed to think of something to tell her that would appease her mind while he was trying to get her alone somewhere.  Pretending to reconsider his retirement from the Death Eaters was going to be a lot more difficult (and possibly less fun) than he had thought earlier.  It was going to become dangerous if Muggles were going to become involved, especially if he was going to be helping one.  Ms. Wallace was already at risk.  It was rare (if not never) that Lucius never spared a Muggle whom crossed his path.  He usually had a little fun with them by use of illegal hexes then would use _Obliviate right before the hex would wear off as a way to confuse them.  Malfoy did not usually kill the Muggles unless he felt as though they posed as a serious risk, and from the way he had looked at the Muggle in the pub he didn't like her being there.  It was different if he went out and bothered them, but should a Muggle ever cross his path he would show no mercy.  Snape did not wish to be held accountable for the death of an innocent (albeit nosey) Muggle woman._

            An unoccupied taxi pulled up stopping just at the light ahead.  Claudia leaped up from her seat and started to chase down the cab forgetting her purse on the ground.  She was too wrapped up in trying to get home than anything else.  All the while, the clouds sent more rain and this time in buckets full.  "Damn it," she cursed as her shoes slid on the pavement.  She just barely managed to grab the handle on the door right before the drive could step on the gas.

            "Hurry up, would ya?" he barked.  "You're getting water in here and I have to go!"  He pointed to the light ahead.  It was a bright green.

            "My purse!" she exclaimed.

            "What about it?"

            Claudia looked to her side and saw Snape by the door (holding her hand bag) then yanked him inside by pulling roughly on his arm.  Her strength surprised the both of them.  She slammed the door shut and gave her address to the drive.  A deep sigh of relief exited her like a light breeze, but she was upset at having gotten soaked again.  The sight of Severus almost made her laugh.  He looked like a drowned cat with the way his hair clumped together and stuck to his face and neck.  She tried to hide the grin by coughing.

            "Something amusing?" he inquired his voice much softer than before.

            "No," she lied.  "Where do you live, Mr. Snape?  I'll pay your fare; it is my fault that you got pulled into this."  She laughed thinking about how she literally did drag the man into the cab.

            He didn't argue with her, but was relieved that he had to follow her.  The Muggle still needed the memory charm performed on her.  Snape could not allow her to know what she did.  Having entered the Leaky Cauldron and knowing its existence was bad enough!

            "Unless, that is," Claudia began blushing, "You would like to come in and have a drink."  She felt rather than saw his eyes burn into her, and it caused a strange feeling from in her stomach down to between her thighs.

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            The ride to her house was long, quiet, and not to mention rather pricey.  A strong wind had picked up as a storm started to brew.  The rain refused to give up even though it had turned into a slow drizzle.  _It would probably get heavier as the evening progressed_, Claudia thought wryly.  The large trees around her house swayed and bent towards the ground as the gusts grew stronger.  The two toppled out of the taxi after paying and hastily made way to the front steps.  Claudia fumbled with her keys and found herself having a difficult time unlocking the door with her swollen hand.  "I'll be in the kitchen in a minute," she informed and took Severus's robe to the hall closet.  Once she entered her bedroom, she tossed her purse and wet clothes to the floor.  It was then that she noticed a cut on her side from the old man's knife.

            Just as Snape settled himself comfortably at the kitchen table (he had been looking at the various sculptures and paintings in her house), Claudia emerged dressed in black sweats looking very attractive (for a Muggle, that is).  Her damp hair curled around her face as if cupping it.  He watched as she struggled with handling the mugs and closing the cabinet doors at the same time.  It was most difficult for her considering her injuries.  "Damn it," she cursed as a mug escaped her clutches and plummeted towards the hardwood floor.  The cup bounced softly in the large hands of her guest.  "You shouldn't be moving around so much," he said and placed his capture on the marble counter top.  Snape forced her to sit at the table and proceeded to make the tea himself.  It kept him distracted from how chaotic his day was.

            "I don't need your help," she looked up at him as he set the cream in front of her.  Claudia hated being so dependent on people.

            He dared not respond and waited rather patiently for the kettle to whistle.  Severus's thoughts were a jumble; he was foolish for not just quickly performing the memory charm and leaving the damn Muggle alone.  Dumbledore needed him and instead hew as making tea.  The stupid cheek was a curse.  _She could get murdered, though, his logic argued.  So was that the reason he was staying?  Did he really want to protect something like a Muggle?  If so, what the hell was he doing standing in front of a gas stove?  He was so immersed in his thoughts that he did not hear the doorbell ring._

            "Michael, what are you doing here?"  She opened the door a little a peered out the crack.

            "It is raining outside, love.  Can't you let a gentleman in who's come for calling?"  He held a vase full of pale pink roses and pussy willows.

            "I suppose, but only for a second. I have a guest."

            "Thanks," he agreed and ran a hand though his tousled dark brown hair.  Michael stayed put on the rug once inside.  "Looks like a storm outside, eh?"

            "What do you want?" Claudia demanded sounding cold.  "This is the first time I've heard from you since you cancelled on me."

            "I-I was busy, dear.  You know how I work."  He frowned disapprovingly as he saw a shadow of a man move about in the kitchen.  "Care to forgive me?"

            "I have spent so much of my time forgiving you, Michael."

            "Claudia-"

            "Please do not make this any harder, Michael.  I think you should leave."  He was caught off guard as the door burst open sending in gusts of wind and rain.  His apologetic face fell.

            "Claudia!"

            "Please," she begged.  "It is hard for me to trust you."

            "But you can trust some stranger, is that it?!" he exploded.  "You are making a mistake!"  He left and slammed the door shut behind him causing Claudia to jump out of her skin.  She leaned back into the door and slid down onto the floor with her head in her hands.  Was she wrong to reject a man whom had come for calling?

            The tea kettle screamed signifying that it was time to finally relax.  Severus filled the mugs and added the sugar and cream to the steaming drink.  It had seemed that he timed everything perfectly for as soon as they sat down, the windows rattled and the power shut off in her entire house.  Claudia mumbled some inappropriate words under her breath and chugged her hot tea.  She padded around her den in search of an old newspaper and a lighter to start a fire.  Her hand shook as she tried to get the lighter lit, then steadied as Snapes' calloused hand wrapped hers up in his and he lit it himself.  Her skin tingled where he had touched her.  Soon enough there was a roaring fire with the wood crisply crackling.

            "Today has been awfully exhausting," she collapsed onto the love seat.  It seemed that wherever she was around Professor Severus Snape, her day would sink into an all-time low.  The man was a curse, yet he always managed to pull her out of sticky situations.  What was he?

            "Give me your hand," Snape instructed and crouched down in front her the same way he had done three weeks ago.  He brought his mouth to it and for a moment she thought he'd kiss it.  Instead he massaged the swollen contusion causing her to wince in pain.  "This will hut," he warned and wondered why he was so keen on helping her.  Never before had anyone been able to penetrate his hard exterior, but this Muggle seemed to not only burrow herself deep into him but find his anger amusing!  His lips moved against her skin as he whispered the healing incantation.  The pain was almost unbearable yet grew weaker at the same time.

            The blue black bruise faded as well as the deep crimson scratch on her hand from hitting the door knob to the Leaky Cauldron.  Snape knew that healing the Muggle's injuries was a risk, but it was one in which he found himself not mind taking.  Was he starting to fall for her?  It was impossible.  Once he finished, her warm lips met his for a brief second leaving him feeling as though a feather had teased his mouth.  His black pools melted into her gentle steel eyes.  Claudia touched his hair with her free hand and then ran her slender fingers to his slightly parted lips.  Her thumb seduced him.

            "You're beautiful," she whispered and they shared in another kiss this one being more passionate and much longer.  Severus rested a hand on the small of her back and allowed her to deepen the embrace.  He was not going to make any moves; if the Muggle wanted him she would have to prove it.  Claudia's tongue teased his entire mouth.  Her free fingers played in his mess of hair and dug deeply into his scalp.  It took him all but to moan out in pleasure.  After what had felt like an eternity, Snape broke away the kiss.  His eyes searched her before moving to kiss her quivering chin.  His hot mouth trailed down her neck to in between her collar bones.  He proceeded to move to her left shoulder and lowered the strap of the tank top she was wearing.  His hungry teeth grazed her skin as he continued and stopped just above where her breasts met.  She gasped slightly and tried to control her labored breathing.  Severus planted a small kiss and traveled to her right shoulder.  His hands slid up to her sides bunching up her shirt with it.  He led her to the floor and had her lay on her stomach.  Claudia's bare back beckoned him.

            It had been far too long since he had been with someone—a woman.  How could he let himself become so intimate with someone?  The thoughts did not matter as he pressed his lips at the base of her spine and worked his way up not leaving a spot untouched.  He did this until he reached back to where he had started carefully teasing her skin with his tongue.  She tasted sweet and felt so soft under his torturous caress.  He ran his hands along her sides grazing her firm breasts and then down to her hips.  Snape slowly removed her slacks and knickers and carelessly tossed them onto the lounge chair behind him.  The room was starting to get too hot; Severus then unbuttoned his own shirt and removed it as well as the t-shirt he wore beneath.  His socks and shoes followed in suit.  He picked up where he had left off and followed down her delicate legs to her small feet then back up to her spine.  All the while Claudia endured the tease and tried not to fight back.  His mouth felt like heaven on every inch of her skin.

            He stopped.

            She rolled over and looked up at Severus curious as to what his next move would be and cocked her head to one side so that her dark curls slid along the floor.  "What are you going to do-"  Claudia could not finish as he massaged between her trembling legs.  She arched her back trying to immerse herself in the silken pleasure.  She bit her lip as he entered her and started to manipulate her sensitive areas.  This went on until Claudia nearly exploded.  He then tugged off his trousers and briefs before picking up Claudia and sat her astride his lap so that she was in between him and wrapped fully around his length.  It was an overwhelming sensation that reached to all of the branches of her body.  Snape held his hands on her hips to guide her gently along him.  At first her moves were slow, deep, and deliberate, and then he propelled her faster against him.  She kept her back arched and at times would look into his dark abysses.  His drawn-out, yet passionate, form of love making was almost unbearable.  Her body wanted him to move faster; she felt impatient for the release she had been waiting for her whole life.  Snape sensed her impatience and tried to control the tension building up inside of him.  His fingertips whispered against her damp skin.

            Snape gripped her tighter as he felt himself losing control and once again decreased their pace.  He knew that he'd never get an opportunity to be with someone in such a manner again any tie soon.  He needed to cherish it.  Finally, when it seemed that if he'd hold out any longer his eyes would roll into the back of his head, Severus plunged deeply into his one time lover and came, pleased when she did the same when he did.  Claudia shook and collapsed onto his sweaty body.  Never before had she used her hips and thighs in such a manner for as long as she just had.  She could feel his heart beat between the rise and fall of each tire breath he took.  She sighed and almost instantly fell asleep on his chest with him still inside of her.  For once in her life, it felt food to depend upon someone.  Part of Snape regretted having sex with the Muggle.  He told himself it wasn't because it'd never happen again, but because he had used her for a personal release.  He had needed to get rid of all the sexual frustration that boiled deep inside him, and she didn't seem to mind.  His attraction to her, if one at all, was merely a sexual and physical attraction.  Ms. Wallace had nothing to offer that would do him any good in the long run.  As he just lay on the floor looking up at the ceiling, his fingers tangled themselves in her silky hair.  He had to admit, the Muggle was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon in his entire life.  Her softness and generosity reminded him of someone from long ago.  The most curious part was that she chose him.  She had allowed for everything to happen that had occurred between them.  It was almost as though Ms. Claudia Wallace was-

*****

End Chapter Two!  I hope that you had liked it!  There is still much more to the story.  Thank you for reading.

~ann no aku


	3. Chapter Three

Of Charcoal and Rose

By: ann no aku

**General Disclaimer:**  Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Chapter Three**

**Author's Notes:**  This is for Bella.  Sorry it had taken quite so long.  I hope you like this chapter as much as the other two.  If this is too mushy, let me know.  I tried to make Snape convincing, but not as big of a bugger as he is perceived.

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          Claudia awoke the next morning unclothed on the floor beneath a heavy chenille blanket.  The roaring fire in the fireplace had gone out only moments ago and the electronic whirr of power surging through the house had woken her.  She searched around her living room with still sleepy eyes.  Where was Severus?  She tightly wrapped the afghan around herself and padded through her kitchen to make some tea for the both of them, but the ever disappearing gentleman was nowhere to be seen.  Nor was her help Mary.

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          "Severus," Albus Dumbledore stopped his potions professor in the corridor on the way to breakfast Monday morning.  He smiled at him as though there was an inside joke he should know.  "I did not get the chance to say thank you for the favor you did for me on Saturday."

          "You're welcome."  Snape wanted to escape Dumbledore's clutches before the old man could ask him anything about what had happened in the Leaky Cauldron.  It was bad enough that quite so many knew as it was.  Soon people would start to see him as having a soft spot for Muggles, and the truth was that he hated them.

          "Interesting, isn't it, how a Muggle came across Tom's pub?"

          Too late.  "It was an accident," he began.

          "As I've heard," Albus interrupted.  "I have asked the papers to keep this quiet because I cannot have everyone knowing it was you whom had showed the woman the way out.  Speaking of which, Severus, why did you do so?"

          Yes, why had he done so?  Even if Lucius had escorted Ms. Wallace out of the pub, it would have resulted in the same thing.  Well, the same as to what _he was supposed to do.  Lucius would not have had sex with the Muggle, but he would have performed the memory charm on her per requirement.  Did he personally show out Ms. Wallace because he had feelings for her?  __No, he told himself.  _That is ridiculous.  She's a Muggle._  But his answer did not justify what he had done.  "I feared, Sir, that maybe Lucius would terrorize the Muggle.  In the end, it would cause even more trouble for the Ministry," he conjured up.  "And I might have to be questioned.  You know how I do not like to deal with the Ministry of Magic," he said while remembering his past dealings with them after coming clean to Dumbledore about being a Death Eater._

          "Of course."  Even though the headmaster's words agreed with him, the dangerous twinkle in his sparkling blue eyes said otherwise.  "I do have one other question, Severus.  Does this Muggle know anything at all which can put our world at risk?"  The inquiry was not whether he had performed the memory charm or not, but if the Muggle woman knew too much.  In other words, Dumbledore knew that he had not.  Somehow . .

          "No."  Was that all he could say?

          "Good.  Come then and share in breakfast."  He led the way through the large double doors to the Great Hall smiling at all his students merrily chatting away while scraping jam on their toast or drinking only the finest pumpkin juice.

          Snape absent mindedly put his hand in his robe pocket as if feeling around for something.  His already long face fell as he was struck with a painful realization.  He was missing something very important, and he was unarmed.

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          "Mornin', love," Andrew greeted as he seated himself at the breakfast table.  His thick fingers flipped through the thin pages of the newspaper.  "Ah, more stories of blokes dressed in all black harassing people.  S'bin happening a lot, eh, Claudia?"

          "Of course," she smiled awkwardly and delicately pulled a knife from the drawer.  Her hand shook as she brought it down to the thick sandwich.  The sharp tool slid from her left hand and sliced her other arm which was unhappily resting in a sling.

          "Lunch almost ready?" he asked not even bothering to look up when he had unmistakably heard the knife drop to the floor.

          "I," she started to tell him about her injury when she remembered that all that mattered was that he received his lunch on time.

          "You're taking a bit long, aren't you?  I thought women were supposed to know their way around a kitchen."

        "I'm sorry," Claudia stuttered suddenly feeling ashamed.  Since when did she let someone hold her back so?  She had always thought of herself as a confident and strong woman.  If she was, then how did a bastard like Andrew manage to control her the way he did?  _Fear,_ she decided_._

          "No 'sorry', Claudia.  All I ask is for a simple lunch—cucumber sandwiches!  How hard can it be to slice up some green cock and shove it between two pieces of white bread?  You're useless," he spat.  His vulgar language caused her stomach to twist into knots.  Must he always be so cruel?

          "It is hard for me to move quickly and carefully with a twisted shoulder, Andrew," she carefully reminded.

          "How dare you blame me for that!  Was it my fault you fell into a wooden table and smashed it to bits?"  His voice shook the windows like an angry wind.  "I'm going to change.  Maybe the pub down the street can serve something more edible faster than you can."  His heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs.  The man was like the rain on her parade.

          The thought of rain made her think of Mr. Severus Snape.  Every time she had ever seen him, it had rained despite their somewhat pleasant encounters.  Yet when Claudia was with the stormy Andrew, his attitude never described the weather.  On the contrary, they had partaken in a few nice strolls before he had become an alcoholic and desperate for control.

          Almost as soon as Andrew had made his way to the guestroom where he was to change into more appropriate attire, the doorbell buzzed signaling an unexpected guest.  Claudia rushed to the door and was surprised to see the man whom could make the sky cry on even the happiest days.  "S-Severus," she gasped.

          "I had left my cloak here," he curtly informed and immediately took notice of the multiple contusions on her arm and the cut on her lip.

          "I had a car accident," she lied as if reading his thoughts.  Claudia then practically pushed the gentleman into the kitchen.  "I, uh, I will get your cloak, but I am a little preoccupied right now.  It is not a good time for visiting."

          "Did you cut yourself?" Snape inquired looking at the deep crimson scratch on her right arm and ignoring her statement about being busy.  His nimble fingers traced the outline and warm blood stained his fingertips.

          "Yes.  I was making lunch, as you can tell from the mess in here," she blushed, "and the knife slipped.  I can be so clumsy sometimes, but I suppose you already know that, don't you?"  Her shy attitude caught him off his guard.  The last time he had seen her, Ms. Wallace was not afraid to state her opinion and be as annoying as possible.  Now the Muggle was acting just as that—mundane.  "Cloak, right?"  She went in searching of it mumbling something like _hall closet_ and _bedroom_.

          "Who's there?" Andrew's voice boomed from the top of the staircase.  _So that's to whom the other mug belongs_, Snape thought with a sour expression.

          "N-No one.  It's just the post."  Claudia sprinted into the kitchen and pushed Snape along with his cloak by the dining room past the kitchen.  "Are you leaving now?"

          "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"  He said when she came out to greet him in the foyer.  Andrew pressed his heavy body on hers so that she was shoved into the wall.  She bit her lip in pain as her elbow met it.  "You cut yourself making me sandwiches.  How stupid can you get, love?" he asked holding her by her hair and sniffing her neck.  A hungry hand shot to her abdomen then down to the button on her trousers.  "Maybe I won't go out just yet if you give me a reason to stay any longer.  Maybe I wasn't hungry for food after all."  His index finger rubbed her stomach playfully.

          Her silence infuriated him.

          "What?  Am I not good enough for you?" he screamed pressing his erection into her thigh.

          "N-No," she barely whispered fighting back the tears in her eyes.  He was humiliating her.

          "Oh, quit yer blubbering, you whigny bitch."  As he began unzipping his khakis, a dark shadow crossed over him.

          "That's now how a lady should be handled," the stranger said and grabbed Andrew's roaming hand.

          "Who is this bloke?  Someone to keep you busy while I'm at the pub?"  He laughed and swung at Snape.

          "No," she gasped and moved in to stop him.  A hard punch landed on her cheek sending her into the opposite wall.

          "Look at what you did; you let my woman get hurt."  Andrew tried to hit Snape again but only found him being incapacitated.  "You think a scrawny guy like you can stop me?" he hissed, reminding Snape all too much of his days as a Death Eater.  "Once you leave, she's all alone."

          "If you ever come back here, I will kill you."  The way he had threatened the Muggle sent chills down both Andrew's and Claudia's spines.  His words dripped with blood.  Snape grabbed the man by his lapels and glared darkly at him as he held him high upon the wall.  His black eyes had turned deep amber with hatred.  He silently wished he had his wand so he could perform the Adava Kedarva curse.

          "You can't keep saving her," Andrew said only making Snape even angrier.  "One day you won't be around, and she will hate you for it."

          "Get out," Severus barked and released the man.

          "With pleasure," he showed himself the door and closed it gently as if mocking Snape's temper.

          "You have your cloak, Mr. Snape, you may leave now.  If you'll be so kind as if to excuse me," Claudia pulled herself up from the floor and walked calmly up the stairs as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened (which in turn did not help Snape's anger).  Once safe upstairs, her body collapsed tiredly against her bedroom door.  How could she have been so foolish to follow the devil all the way into his hell?

          Snape tried to ignore the woman's muffled sobs, but found a strange wrenching pain in his chest.  He quickly assumed it was acid reflux from the excitement and decided to charm it away, even though there was no charm to get rid of pity.  His feet led him to the stairs and dragged his reluctant body to where she was.  "It is not your fault."

          "It's a Thursday, Mr. Snape, aren't you supposed to be teaching today?" she shot at him forcing herself to stand up.

          "It was imperative that I retrieved my cloak," he slowly said and found it hard to believe that he somehow had managed to last all week with a 'loaning' wand from the storage room.  The only reason Dumbledore had allowed him to leave was to raise more suspicion.

          "You should leave.  I suspect Andrew will return."

          "I doubt it," he said recalling that he had enchanted the door so that only invited guests could enter the house.

          "Then what are you still doing here?  Your role as hero is over.  Andrew was right, one day you won't be there.  I have to learn to fight my own battles.  I don't need a phantom lover to come and play knight only when he chooses."

          Is that how she saw him?  He was hardly her lover!  Snape mentally fought with his arms as they pulled the woman towards him.  He kicked himself for finding her attractive, and he hated himself for caressing her smooth skin.

          "Please," she begged as his fingers danced along her bruised lip.  Her usual satin mouth had turned to sandpaper with dried blood.

          "You shouldn't let him do that to you."

          "And I suppose you know a way to prevent it?"  She felt as though she was standing before a stranger completely unclothed.

          Severus played with the skin in between her collar bones.  Her chest rose as she took in a sharp breath.  Claudia's stomach tingled in anticipation and even more so when he stole her lips into the gentlest of meetings.  His own body trembled in fear from the surge of emotions shooting through his veins.

          "Why are you still here, Severus?" she broke from the kiss.  "You've seen me at my worst.  Let me go."  The softness of her plea stung him.  Never before had begging affected him in such a way.  He was turning weak, and it was all the Muggle's fault.  It never would have happened if she was a witch.  Witches didn't go around acting pathetic and foolhardy like an accident just waiting to happen (with the exception of Neville, of course).  "Please."

          A protest threatened to escape from his lips, and it took him everything not to allow it to do so.

          "Leave.  It is what you do best," her eyes darted towards the floor the instant she insulted him.  It angered her that he could be so collected when she was so naked before him.  Before she could stop him, the man scooped her up into his arms and carried her to her bed.  There he held her against his chest feeling very much like a damned fool.  Snape did the only thing he knew that could help her; he cast a soft spell that would allow her to sleep a dreamless sleep for twelve hours.  Whether or not she hated him when she woke was her prerogative, Claudia Wallace was nothing more than a charity project to him and he was behind on his hours.  Her limp body fell deeper into his as the spell worked its way through her.

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          "Welcome back, Severus," the headmaster greeted at supper that evening.  He looked at him from behind the rim of his goblet.  His old eyes glittered in a mysterious amusement.

          Supper seemed to take longer than usual, and the Great Hall felt much more crowded.  He knew it was a lot louder than yesterday.  Snape felt weighted with emptiness, and the thick slices of roast beef bathed in sweet grave couldn't even replace a portion of his hollow insides.  The butter soaked rolls tasted dry, and the pecan bourbon crème brulee wasn't hard enough on top.  What did it take to have quality service at what was rumored to be the best wizarding school in the world?

          He excused himself from the table and headed straight for his quarters.  For an odd reason, Snape could not shake the peculiar madness that surged within him.  Sleep did not help, either.  He kept waking and tried falling back asleep until he finally decided that slumber was moot.  He looked up and took notice of the painting he had moved from his office and into his room above his lounge chair.  The pale flickers of candle light undulated upon the canvas.

          His slender pointer finger touched the woman's full lips delicately running his thumb along the bottom.  He then drew an invisible line on her jaw tracing it back to her chin.  Her long neck begged for his touch, and he fell victim to its call.  His fingertips curled at the stray wisps of her honey blond hair.  They danced along the accentuated contours of the woman's organic form stopping at her covered ankles.  Her blue abysses lured him in and proceeded to drown him.

          He hated himself for wanting her.

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          I was going to make this chapter longer, but I thought it'd be best to just load up this one ASAP.  Thanks for reading!  More is coming.  *cough cough* I know . .I know . .I tend to leave things.  But I promise that this WHOLE STORY is already written out!  I just have to get off my lazy butt and type it when I'd rather be playing the SIMS!  Ja ne!

~ann no aku  ((^.-))~*


	4. Chapter Four

Of Charcoal and Rose

By: ann no aku

**General Disclaimer:**  Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Chapter Four**

**Author's Notes:**  This is for Bella.  To write this chapter, I am abandoning the SIMS (Superstar, mind you).  This will be the last chapter before the epilogue.  Enjoy!  *sigh*  It was a Michael!  Damn . .I remember having changed the name to Michael (it was handwritten as Andrew) because actually there was a guy named Andrew whom liked me at the time.  As for the spelling errors, I do not have a beta and I was in a bit of a rush.  Sorry!  My SIMS are doing well, even though I cheat (only money codes, my SIMS like to live in luxury).  In this chapter, Snape is going to be in for a big surprise.

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          Claudia awoke about twelve hours after her encounter with the strange school professor feeling refreshed, but still very alone.  She removed her clothes and entered the bathroom adjacent to her bedroom.  It was hard to pass the mirror without taking notice of her countless contusions.  They littered her body like grey freckles.  Her eye was still swollen (which was to be expected), but there was no mark from the blunt punch she had received earlier.  She turned on the water in the shower and stepped inside carefully as though the water might hurt her.  Steam began to create a film over the mirrors.  As Claudia started her ritual of shampooing her hair, a curious sensation overwhelmed her.  Something that felt very much like fingers grazed her mouth.  Her jaw line tingled as did her neck and back.  The ghost's caresses ceased at her ankles.  She flashed her eyes open, and for a brief moment, saw a pair of sad black pools.

          Later in the week, Ms. Wallace received a telephone call from a local art curator at the London Art Gallery.  He requested to see her work for he had heard much about it from a gentleman whom was very fond of her artistry and the Charity Art Auctions.  The curator said he was looking for some new paintings to hang in his museum.  Claudia then felt glad that she had a sudden creative streak which refused to leave her.  It permitted her to create (what she felt) were her most emotional works.  The paintings she made up until the day before her meeting with George Padgett five weeks later evoked a sense of passion any potential onlooker could almost taste.

          She rang up a taxi to drive her to the restaurant where she was to meet the curator.  "Ms. Wallace?" the host greeted, "Please follow me."  He had taken her coat and led her to George's table then proceeded to take out her chair for her.

          "Thank you," she acknowledged.  "Good evening, Mr. Padgett," she said.  "It is an honor to meet you."

          "Marvelous night, isn't it?"  He smiled and found himself appreciating her appearance.  Ms. Wallace looked professional and very attractive.  He did not think he'd have a hard time working with her.  "Nice to meet you too, dear."  George kissed her cheek and opened up his menu.  "My treat," he offered.

          They shared in polite conversation while drinking some wine and later moved onto business until the entrees arrived.  The cuisine was exquisite as well as the comforting mood from the atmosphere.  Mr. Padgett finished his second glass of wine rather quickly.  "Ms. Wallace, when I had fist seen your artwork, I was amazed that anyone could capture such a look on a face.  As I see you, I realize it is your face and I am surprised such a young woman as yourself wears a look of vulnerability and passion in this world.  Women of your age, no offense, especially here in London, fear showing weakness.  You show your true self on canvas."

          "Thank you, Mr. Padgett.  Would you like to see my other art work as well?  I had brought quite a few prints of my recent projects."

          "Yes please!" he chuckled.  "This man," he pointed a chubby finger at a figure with long black hair, "You use him a lot."

          "Yes, he, uh, is like the hero."

         "You tell a story!  Fascinating."  His eyes danced a long the prints.  "In this painting, I really like this one, you-it is you, right?—are with the 'hero' still someone seems to be jealous."

          "He's watching," she clarified.

          "Yes.  You don't use him again, either."  He took a small bite from his plate.  "Why?"

          "I do not like him.  See his eyes?"

          "Snake eyes," George agreed.  "It's brilliant work.  You use realism with a mix of Rococo style.  The faces are always the first thing I notice, then the eyes.  You focus a lot on the eyes."  He was silent as he considered her works for a while longer.  "I shall call you sometime next week with my answer.  Might I borrow your prints?"

          "Of course, Mr. Padgett."  She hadn't expected a man like him to accept right away, but she still had been hoping on a quicker response.

          "It's been a pleasure, Ms. Wallace."  He patted her hand, excusing her from the table.

          "Thank you, Mr. Padgett.  Have a wonderful evening."

          "You, too, Love.  Be sure to have one of the employees see you to a taxi.  It's been dangerous to walk around this area alone at night," he cautioned.

          "The culprits have not been caught?" Claudia inquired, reaching for her portfolio.

          "Not yet.  The police say it is just a bunch of crazy teenagers."

          "But people have started missing; some even found dead!  I dare not think it is a teenage cult."

          "Just be careful.  I wouldn't want a potential artist to wind up vanished," he winked at her.

          "Of course not."  Claudia smiled and was extremely pleased with how her dinner meeting ended.  So enthused, in fact, that even the disturbing news hardly had her worried about her own personal safety.  She left the restaurant alone and waited on the dark street.  Then it began to rain.

          Mumbling obscenities under breath, Claudia turned around to re-enter the restaurant when she bumped into someone.  "E-Excuse me," she apologized and looked up to see whom it was.

          "Ah, good evening."  The man's voice was cold and hard.

          "Y-You," she blurted.

          "You remember me?  How surprising!"  His face twisted into a sly grin.  "You'll catch cold if you stay out in the rain."  His towering form lead her against a brick wall.  "Would you like to have a drink with me?"  He ran a hand along her cheek.

          "S-Sorry.  I really need to get home."  She tried to push past him, but his cane stopped her.

          "Tsk, tsk.  You shouldn't run off, Miss."  His gloved hand reached into his pocket and pulled out a white cloth.  "The fun's only beginning."  Malfoy covered her mouth with the cloth and held her squirming body.  He had drenched the fabric in a very potent sleeping draught, one that would last twenty four hours.

          When the spell took her over and she fell in his arms, Lucius pulled out a black hood and tied it over her face.  He then diapparated to his mansion and tossed the damned know-it-all Muggle in the dungeon, but not before binding her arms and wrists together and fitting a scarf over her mouth.  Capturing her had been easy and predictable.  He was going to have quite a bit of fun the following night.

Sorry it took so long to load, but I had actually lost this story somewhere in my house between moves!  Thanks for the wait!


	5. Chapter Five

Of Charcoal and Rose

By: ann no aku

**General Disclaimer:**  Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Chapter Five**

**Author's Notes:**  Um, sorry?  *blush*  It has taken so damn long, ne?.

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          The meeting is tonight, Severus?" Dumbledore questioned stopping the potions professor in the passageway.

          "Yes," he replied with a bit more venom in his voice than intended.  "I am to meet Lucius by the Screaming Shack at ten."

          "I wish you luck, then.  Hopefully all will go well."

          "Thank you, Sir."  Snape retreated back to his quarters and prepared himself for the Death Eater's meeting.  He had only an hour left before he had to meet up with his old friend.  His Dark Mark burned brightly on his arm.

          It was time to leave.

          He took the long way out of the school and walked alone in the dark with his hand gripping tightly about his wand.  Before he realized where he was, the cool metal knob of Malfoy's cane tapped him on the back.

          "Glad to see you could make it.  Come with me," he instructed and led him to the outskirts of Hogsmaede.  Lucius pointed to a small rock.  "We are going to pick this up at the same time."

          "A port key?" Snape questioned.

          "You think I don't trust you."  He chuckled.  "No, Severus, whether or not I trust you is not the issue."

          "Is that what this is about, then?" he inquired, studying Malfoy very carefully.

          "It's only going to be you and me, Severus."  Lucius bent down by the rock.  "You're going to prove your everlasting friendship to me."  Snape followed in suit and instantly they were transported to a secluded medow.  "Come.  We're going to my manor."

          The duo treaded through tall weeds and walked for what felt like three hours when it had only been half the time.  They finally reached the doorstep to the house, and Snape understood the reason for using the port key.  Malfoy never trusted people and did not allow disapparation or apparation on his land.  Lucius lured his guest to the basement of his house which was amazingly high considering they were just below the house.

          "Wait here," he told Severus and left him standing at the edge of a circular platform.  Lucius entered the dungeon where he kept the Muggle and was pleased to see that she was still asleep.  He carried her body to the platform and gently laid her in the middle facing Severus.

          Snape's throat constricted.

          "It's a Muggle, Severus," Lucius began, stating the obvious.  "You know what you have to do.  She won't realize that anything has happened because she's under a very potent sleeping draught.  I want to make this as painless for you as possible, my friend.  I know how much killing disturbs you."

          Claudia stirred and struggled to move.  She opened her eyes, but found that she still could not see.  Her hands and feet were bound together.  Where was she?  Her thoughts flooded back to her encounter with the snake like man.  He had put something over her mouth.  Was he going to rape her?  The man had been dressed like those whom had been terrorizing London as of late.  She was a victim!  Why?  Was it because she recognized him from before?  She cried out hoping someone would hear her, but even her cries were silenced.

          "Awake so soon?"  Lucius neared her and slowly untied the rope on her hood.  His ice cold fingers burned her skin as her delicately removed the bandana from her mouth.  He then unveiled himself by pulling back his own hood.  "Sh," he commanded before she could protest.  "I regret informing you, Miss, that today you are going to die."

          "No," she whimpered and doubled over.  "Please, don't kill me."  Tears streamed down her face.

          "It won't hurt, I promise."  Lucius' words offered no comfort.

          "Y-You can't," she gasped and stared at him.  "Please, don't kill me."

          "I am not the one who's going to kill you, my dear."

          "D-Don't kill me," she begged.  "Please.  I am pregnant."

          "Really?  Oh, this has just gotten interesting."  Malfoy proceeded to unbind her wrists and ankles then stood to face his 'friend'.  "You have two choices," he boomed, "You can either kill her or save her.  Either way, you must show yourself.  If you do not follow those rules, I shall be forced to kill her."  He laughed ominously.  "Do you agree?"

          Far too much in shock to say anything, Snape just nodded his covered head and put his hand in his pocket.  He had a choice.  Why give him a choice?  Just what was he playing at?

          "Do you recognize this lovely Muggle?" Lucius cupped her face.  "No matter your decision, she'll suffer."

          Ms. Wallace!  He'd have to save her.  That was the only logical thing to do.  Then he could cast a memory charm on her later.  But, if he did save her, did it show he wasn't loyal?  What was more important—Dumbledore's plan or the Muggle?

          "I let you choose, friend," he released her damp cheeks, "Because I know that no matter the decision, suffering will be on both sides.  If you do an '_obliviate', well, you'll just have to wait and see, right?"  Malfoy whispered in Claudia's ear, "Maybe if you tell him you're pregnant, he'll rescue you."_

          Claudia was too hysterical to see the game he was playing.  "But you said suffering was either way," she clutched her slowly forming womb.

          "True, but you won't die if he rescues you.  Your child will live.  Tell him," he urged.

          "I-I can't!" she cried and held her tear stricken face low.  It pained Snape to see her so.  "Please, just don't kill me!"

          "Do not beg to me, woman!  Tell it to your true murderer!"

          "Don't kill me."

          "He can't hear you!  Give him a reason to spare you!"

          "Oh, god," Claudia sobbed loudly and tried to keep herself calm so she could speak.  "Please," she looked up at the concealed Severus.  "I'm pregnant.  Don't kill me."

          "Good girl."

          Pregnant?  It all made sense to him.  Lucius really did not care which decision he'd make.  If he was to rescue her, she'd hate him.  If he was to use the memory charm, he'd never be able to be a part of his child's life.  Somehow Malfoy knew.

          "You have thirty seconds to decide, Friend, or I kill her."  Lucius readied his wand.  "What is it going to be?  Ah!  Twenty-five seconds!"

          "Please do not kill me.  My-My child-" she stuttered.

          "Twenty!" he read from his watch.  "Tick tock."

          What could he do?

          "Please," she cried into her hands sitting on her bloodied kneecaps.

          "Fifteen!  Half of your precious decision time is wasted."

          "I cannot die.  Not yet."

          "Ten!"

          "Please!" she shouted, not caring anymore about how pathetic she appeared.

          "Nine.  Honestly, I would have thought you'd save her by now.  Six.  Now is the time to do it, Friend."

          "No," she sobbed.

          "Three . . .two . ."

          "NO!" she screamed sounding as though she was dying already.

          "One.  Say goodbye to-" Lucius stopped as he watched Severus pull back his hood, revealing a very frightened expression.  "You are going to save her, I presume?"

          Claudia looked up right into the confused eyes of her hero.  "Oh my god."  Nausea overwhelmed her.  "Not you."

          "Doesn't seem too happy to see you.  I wonder why.  Aren't you her prince on a white horse?"  Lucius' words angered Snape.  "Come now, either save her or kill her.  She already knows who you are!"

          "It's not true," she mumbled.

          "Oh, my dear, but it is!"

          "Nn . ."  Bile erupted from her mouth and she passed out onto the wooden platform.

          "How disappointing."

          Snape marched up to her and picked the woman up in his arms.  She was a mess.  Rage boiled deep inside of him.  Malfoy had done it all on purpose.  He had hit him where it would hurt the most.

          "When are you going to learn to let go, Severus?  She's just another one of them!  Worst part is is that she carries _your_ unborn child.  Yes, I do know.  It is hard to believe someone, no a Muggle as lovely and so well brought up would choose to _fuck you.  Disgusting, isn't it?"  Lucius sneered at Snape.  "Either way, I've won.  There's nothing you can do to change that.  I bet she'd be so distraught that her 'gentleman' lover has betrayed her that she'll never trust anyone ever again.  Isn't it just funny how things work out?"  He pointed to a chair by the platform.  "Please do not forget her things; I have no use for htem."_

          He glared at Malfoy with his jaw tightly clenched.  Snape found it hard to accept everything that happened that evening.  He was not a Muggle lover or even partial to them.  He hated them almost as much as the Potters and Marauders.  He especially loathed Lucius at the moment.

          "Well?  Aren't you going to get out of my sight?  It's bad enough having witness you risk all you ever stood for to save the life of a blubbering Muggle!"  Lucius watched in distaste as his once old friend trudged up the steep stairs and out of the dungeon.

          Severus carried her all the way off Malfoy's land and apparated into the Leaky Cauldron where he checked out a room for the night.  He could not return to Hogwarts with a Muggle in his arms, especially a female one at that!  It took him an hour to fall asleep considering he was on the floor.  He knew it'd be hard for Claudia to get over everything that had happened and Severus began to pity her.  It wasn't fair that she had to go through all she did.  It was not right.

End of Chapter Five!  Hope you enjoyed!

~ann no aku


	6. Chapter Six

Of Charcoal and Rose

By: ann no aku

**General Disclaimer:**  Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Chapter Six**

**Author's Notes:**  Is this the conclusion?

*******************************

          Claudia shot up in bed and stumbled through the unfamiliar darkness in search of a toilet.  Bile threatened to escape her lips.  After much straining of her eyesight, she found the bathroom at long last (she had even stepped on something soft which resembled a hand).  The green acid erupted from her as she sat near the toilet, hugging it for support.  Morning sickness it was called, but was it morning?

          She splashed cool water on her face and looked up into the mirror.  "What happened?  You look terrible," her reflection said.

          "Shut up," Claudia ordered and flicked the water on the mirror.  What was wrong with her?  She leaned against the bathroom door and tried to stifle her sobs.  Ladies did not cry.  She had to be strong.  She slipped on her boots as well as her cot then gathered her purse and portfolio.

          "Going somewhere?" A voice asked coming from the darkness.  A shadowed figure approached and cornered her.

          "Yes," she stammered, not realizing to whom the voice belonged.

          A flame from an oil lamp flickered on sending a dull yellow light throughout the small room.  Severus Snape stood before her looking much disheveled.  He had removed his Death Eater's robe and was now dressed in a black tunic with matching tweed trousers.  His hair was more of a mess than usual, and his angry coal eyes were soft with pity and regret.

          "Stay away from me," she warned.

          "You need to know the truth," he informed.

          "No!  I don't want to hear it!  What 'truth' is there to know besides the fact that you were supposed to kill me?  You were going to kill me!" she shrieked.

          "I was never going to kill you," he grabbed her shoulders in attempt to control the anger welding up inside of him.  It bothered him even more when she shied from him.  He knew it was moot.

          "You were brought there to kill me.  Surely you had known that."  She spoke in the same fear when Michael/Andrew (whichever) had tried to rape her.  Claudia struggled to break free from him.  "Let me go."

          "I never intended on letting you die."  He was not prepared for the stinging slap on his cheek.  His head snapped back into place.  He deserved it.

          "I-I don't know what sort of game you and your friend were playing at, but-"

          "He's not my friend," he interrupted.

          "-I don't want to know," she continued.  "It's cruel to play games like that with people.  I don't want to be around you anymore."  Claudia pried his tight fingers from her shoulders and kept staring at the floor.  "You know, at one point," her words caught in her throat, "No, up until tonight, I think I might've," she stopped and tightened her hold on her purse.  "I don't think I've ever hated anyone before.  I'm sorry."

          "Ms. Wallace!"

          "I have to go."  As he tried to stop her again, Claudia spun around and hit him as hard as she could on the head with her handbag.  His body fell to her feet.  "Oh god!" she cried feeling terrible for knocking him unconscious.  Still carrying all of her belongings, Claudia tore out the room and looked around for an escape.

         Stairs were hiding beside another room and she leaped down them to the odd pub from a few weeks ago.  She barely caught a glimpse of the people as she escaped towards the door and opened it up pouring in the sunlight from the bright Sunday London morning.  It felt wonderful compared to the dull illumination of the cult pub.

          She hailed a taxi and scrambled inside, not caring if she had cash on her or not.  One thing was on her mind-home, and she did not give a damn how'd she get there.  She was going to soak for the rest of the day in the bath to rid herself of the previous night.  The bile taste was still fresh in her moth even after she had rinsed thrice.  It was going to be a long day.

Believe it or not, that is Chapter Six.

All of that?

Yep.  Loads, huh?

Ooh well ..there's still Chapter Seven to look forward to.

~ann no aku


	7. Chapter Seven

Of Charcoal and Rose

By: ann no aku

**General Disclaimer:**  Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Chapter Seven**

**Author's Notes:**  It is the end.  Dare I do an epilogue?  Um, also, sorry so long!  But this should really all be one chapter.

*******************************

          Snape awoke to a painful headache and a small bump on the back of his head.  He was angrier, if possible, than he had ever been before.  Lucius Malfoy had really won.  The damned man had been right.  Claudia did hate him, and there was not way to change it.  But he didn't care.

          His fist met the wall.  Blood trickled from his knuckles onto the floor.  He felt pathetic.  How could he have gotten so attached to the Muggle?  And when?  He shouldn't have had sex with her; it had only complicated things even more.  She was pregnant with his child.  She carried a baby capable of magic.  Soon, he'd have to teach his own son or daughter.

          He dragged himself to the washroom and studied himself in the mirror.  Why had she chosen someone as hideous as he?  Would his child be just as unattractive?  Snape brushed away his stringy hair from his eyes.  How could he have been so damn foolish?  He scrubbed his face raw until the skin started to peel, then bunched up his robe in his hands.  He disapparated back to the Screaming Shack and walked to Hogwarts.  He felt like the emptiest he had ever felt in his entire excuse for a life.

          The trek back to the school seemed to have taken longer than the walk from it just hours earlier.  The bright morning sun peeked cautiously from above the trees as if asking permission to show itself before him.  The cool air had a bite of winter and smelled softly of frost.  It was November.  He could hardly wait for the winter holidays so he could relax.  It was all he could do.

          Still, after all that had happened in the matter of eight hours (at the least), what bothered him most was that he was going to have a child.  He, of all people, was going to be a father.  And he'd never be able to see it, either.  Lucius had ensured that.  But there was the chance he'd still be the potions master at Hogwarts if he did not retire first.  He had what?  Eleven?  Twelve years?  He'd be forty seven by then.  But how young would Ms. Wallace be?  Snape realized then that he did not even know her age, much less what she did in her spare time (not as though he cared).  Would _his_ child have a different last name?  Would there be a new father?

          "You look exhausted, Severus," Dumbledore greeted as though waiting for him.  "Come into my office."

          He continued to march on, trying not to show any emotion on his hardened face.  Once inside the headmaster's office, he plopped down tiredly in a chair by the desk.  Why couldn't he just go rest in his quarters?

          "What happened, Severus?  You were gone for nearly nine hours and Tom tells me you were in his pub with the same Muggle woman as before.  You also have a faint contusion on your face.  I take it that things did not go well?"

          "No," he admitted.  "Lucius wanted to get back at me for leaving the Death Eaters, I think."

          "I see," Albus said removing his spectacles to rub his temples.  "Well, you made the right decision."  When Snape said nothing, he looked up at him with concern.  "Is something else troubling you that you are not telling me?"

          _Yes_, he thought bitterly, _the Muggle is pregnant_.  "She's with child," he sighed.

          "With yours, I presume?"

          Why must he answer that ridiculous question?  "Yes."

          "Oh," Dumbledore paused to search for some comforting words.  He found none.  "Does she know?"

          "Know what?" he spat.  "Sorry."

          "It's alright, Severus, I understand.  Does she know anything of our world?  About you?"

          "No."

          "What is her name?"

          "Claudia Wallace; she's an artist.  Is there anything else-"

          "The one who painted that picture in your quarters?  Interesting."

          Snape did not bother to ask how it was interesting; he was toot tired to care.  "Albus, I had a very rough night-"

          "You are permitted to leave, Severus, but only if you tell me one more thing."

          "What is it?"  He had already leapt up from his chair ready to leave.

          "How do you plan on telling Ms. Wallace the truth?"

          "I don't; she doesn't want to know.  As a matter of fact, she wants nothing more to do with me and told me so."

          "Because of this past evening?"

          "Lucius brought me to his manor to kill her and made it a point in informing her of so."  He stood awkwardly by the doorway.  "If you'll excuse me," he fled the office feeling no better than he had earlier.  Apparently talking out problems does not work.

*******************************

          Ms. Wallace sat at the breakfast table sifting through the day's post and found an odd letter addressed to her with no return address.  The envelope was made of a thick yellow-brown paper and written on with an old fashioned script.  She carefully broke the red wax seal on the back and unfolded the parchment.  On the inside, the letter read:

                                                                   _20th January 1995___

_            Dear Ms. Wallace,                                                        _

_                        You are cordially invited to present your finest artwork to Mr. Albus Dumbledore today at __three P.M._  He is looking for someone to paint an updated portrait of him.  Please meet at the shop in between the bookshop and record shop in ___London__ at _one o'clock___.  Your compliance would be greatly appreciated._

_            Sincerely,_

_            Minerva McGonagall_

_            Deputy Headmistress_

          "A bit of short notice, don't you think?"  She set the letter down on the table only to pick it up seconds later when something captured her eyes.

          _P.S. I apologize for the short notice.  A compensation fee will be given._

            The postman's script had just appeared on the letter by itself.  "One o'clock?" she repeated.  "Already it's nearly noon!  I'd have less than an hour to get there."  Still, even though all seemed impossible and insane, she agreed and rushed to ready herself.  The man had sounded fairly important (especially to offer a compensation fee), and she needed the support after failing to get her art in the London Gallery just months ago.

          "It's just not what the public wants, Love," Mr. Padgett had told her.  "They want to see justice, not romance."

          _Bull shit_, she thought as she pulled her nylons over her calves.

          "Besides, they don't want a pregnant artist!  You're supposed to be a role model to these people.  No one wants a single mother."

          _So_ _the truth comes out_, she had thought that day.

          A cab arrived shortly at her home giving her only twenty minutes to be at the rendezvous point.  When asked where exactly he was supposed to take her, she just gave him the street names.  Claudia had even almost forgotten samples of her works and only remembered because the portfolio bag was exactly where she had left it months ago—buried deep within her closet next to her umbrella.  After somehow always managing to come across _him, she would never forget her umbrella because the man brought rain with him wherever he went._

          "Here you are, Miss."

          "Thank you."

          "That'll be £15, please," he informed.

          She fished out a twenty pound note and crumbled it in his hand.

          "What?  Only a £5 tip?!"

          "I'm late," she snapped and slammed the door shut.  Almost as soon as she had done so, a tall skinny young man with fiery red hair came up to her.

          "Ms. Wallace?" he asked.

          "Yes.  Who-"

          "Percy Weasley.  Mr. Dumbledore had asked me to escort you."  He checked his timepiece.  "It's already a quarter past.  Come on, Miss, or we'll miss the train."  He rushed her into and through the Leaky Cauldron out to a back entrance to the Platform 9 ¾.  "The ride is about one and a half hours," he continued.

          "Where are we going?"

          "Mr. Dumbledore is the headmaster of a school for gifted children."

          "So I am to meet him at this school, then?"

          "It's a boarding school, and he has been very busy as of late.  Today is one of the few days he's had off all year."  He led her to a table on the train.  "Have you eaten?" he asked in attempt to change the subject.

          "I had a late-"

          "Ah, good afternoon!" the train stewardess greeted.

          "Hello!" they both replied.

          "What'll you have?" she produced a quill from her pocket and prepared to write down their orders.

          _No time to look at the menu_, Claudia thought.  "Tea, please."

          "Same," Percy said, "And, uh, Mr. Dumbledore is paying."

         "He is such a great headmaster, don't you think?  Both of my children go to his school.  I really trust him, especially with all that's been going on with the rise of You-Know-Who."

          "No," Claudia began.

          "It's terrible!"  She looked over to Percy.  "I know you, but I cannot quite place it."

          "Percy Weasley, ma'am, but if you'll please," he started.

          "Ah, yes.  You were prefect two years ago!  And dating Ms. Clearwater, right?  Oh, she is such a doll.  Anyway, back to You-Know-Who, I just cannot believe that Dumbledore is allowing that _Death Eater_ to continue teaching there!  Don't get me wrong, Albus Dumbledore is the best there is, but when it boils down to Death Eaters and You-Know-Who, well you can't trust anyone, now can you?  The Potter's found that out the hard way fifteen years ago, as you already know.  And then that _professor, Se-"_

          "Actually, I-"

          "Ma'am, Claudia Wallace is just an artist from London asked to paint Dumbledore's portrait.  She, uh, is just visiting."

          Doreen instantly understood from the glare she had received and her cheeks stained a deep crimson.  She stuffed her quill back in her pocket.  "Two teas, correct?"

          "Yes," Percy acknowledged and sighed in relief.  It was his responsibility to keep the Muggle's exposure to the very least.  The stress of that was enough to cause his wand to split.  "Sorry about Doreen."

          "What was she talking about?  Death Eaters?"

          "As you are aware, there's been hazing down by strange people dressed in all black.  They are called Death Eaters.  Mostly they only hurt people physically, but lately there has been deaths."

          "Yes, I had heard.  D-Do they work for this 'You-Know-Who'?" she asked thinking that maybe Lucius was You-Know-Who.

          "They are loyal servants of his."

          "Who is it?"

          "Who?"

          "Yes.  Who is You-Know-Who?"

          "Er, no one really knows," he lied and was glad to see Doreen back with the drinks.

          "I am sorry, dear," she apologized.

          "It's alright.  Mr. Weasley explained it to me."

          "Sort of," he hastily explained.

          "Just, when you arrive, be wary of the Pot-"

          "Doreen, might I have some lemon?" Percy interrupted.

          "Oh, yes, of course."  The skinny older woman vanished to the back.

          "Interesting woman," Claudia commented and cautiously sipped her drink.  "So, Mr. Weasley, what is it that you do?"  She had noticed earlier that the young man looked barely twenty.

          ""I work for the government," he replied and squeezed the lemon he had just received into his tea, spitting a tea onto his tie.  Percy was not comfortable without his robe and hat.  The clothes Muggles wore were too restricting and did not allow for much movement.  He picked the seed off and placed it on his napkin.

          "Really?  You look so young."

          "It's just a lot of paper work," he admitted as his ears turned red.

          "Pardon me for being so inquisitive, but how is it that a young man whom works for the government ends up escorting a simple artist?"

          "I, uh, Mr. Dumbledore had personally requested me.  He trusts that I shall get you to him with the least of troubles, I suppose."

          "So he has a lot of problems with things of this nature?"

          "No.  He, uh, just wants to ensure all will be well."

          "Of course," she placated.  This Mr. Dumbledore must be a very important man."

          "He is.  He's the best headmaster the school ever had to offer."

          "And, um, what is the name of this school?"

          Percy froze.  "Surely you've heard where Mr. Dumbledore is the headmaster."

          "No, I haven't."

          "Well, the, uh, school is famous for its science programs.  It's called the, uh," he coughed, "Hogwarts."

          "Excuse me?"

          "Hogwarts," he repeated, this time with more confidence.  "Someone had thought it funny to name a school which would excel in all the branches of science such a humorous name.  Unfortunately it stuck."

          "I've never heard of it."

          "W-Well that is because it is more commonly referred to as The United Kingdom School of All Sciences."

          Instead of being rude and embarrassing Mr. Weasley further, Claudia just nodded her head.  She did not like where everything was heading.  She peered out the window and saw they were out far in the country.  "How far away is this school?"

          "Not much longer, but then there is a carriage ride up to the school itself," he informed and silently wished he had brought some work with him.  It was going to be difficult talking to the Muggle.  Percy recalled his father wanting the job to almost the point of begging and had even asked Dumbledore to reconsider.  But as to why he had wanted a Muggle to do his portrait was beyond him.  He was surprised the Ministry allowed it.  _If they even know, that is,_ he thought wryly.  It was crazy to have the woman completely unconnected to go to Hogwarts!

          The train ride from then on was rather boring.  Percy kept trying to get comfortable, and Claudia kept looking through her artwork.  From what he could tell, the Muggle was talented and could possibly paint a perfect rendition of the headmaster.  "How long have you been artist?"

          "Since I can remember," she replied and procured a print of her portfolio of a landscape she had painted a few years ago.  "This is a real place, was, that is, until I added my own personal feel for it.  I've always loved mystical creatures like unicorns and centaurs."

          "They look like the real things," he commented.  "By that, I mean, they look realistic."

          "Such a shame they don't exist," she shoved the print back in her bag.

          "What about dragons?"

          "I beg your pardon?"

          "Do you believe in dragons?"

          "I beg your pardon?"

          "Do you believe in dragons?"

          "They're even more unbelievable than unicorns!"

          "You think so?" he asked, thinking of Charlie in Romania.  "Maybe you've just never looked in the right places."

          "I'm too old to believe in fairytales, Mr. Weasely, and after what I've seen," she paused, "It is just too impossible."  Claudia gulped down her tea remembering the encounter two months ago with the snake-eyed Death Eater.  She couldn't even recall his name.  "Sorry."

         "Its okay, Miss Wallace."  He looked down at his watch.  "Ah, almost there.  You will like Mr. Dumbledore.  He is a great man."

          "So I keep hearing."

          At long last, they exited the train and piled into a horse drawn carriage.  When they passed the Quidditch field, Claudia pointed to it and asked what it was.  Percy lied and said it was a landing platform for helicopters.  Before she could ask anymore questions (mostly pertaining to the gothic architecture), the carriage came to a full stop.  It was colder than London, and windier too.  Claudia instantly regretted wearing a dress, especially one that only came to her trembling knees.

          "This way," Percy opened the door for her and led her up the still stairs to the Great Hall.  "Mr. Dumbledore is waiting for you in here."

          "Y-You're leaving?" she squeaked.

          "Ah, Miss Claudia Wallace, please come in."  An old man with the longest hair and beard she had ever seen, stood up and motioned for her to sit down.  He was dressed in velvet maroon robes with a matching coned hat.

          "Good afternoon, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."  She set down the bag and shook his hand.

          "You must be exhausted from the long trip.  For that, I apologize.  Mr. Weasely?!"

          "Yes, Dumbledore?"

          "Please show our guest to the wash room."

          "Thank you."  She found it odd that he'd quickly send her off, but she suddenly found herself having to use it.  Maybe the old man was as wise as he appeared.

*******************************

          "Mr. Longbottom, hurry up!"

          "Honest, Professor Snape, I didn't mean to!" Neville cried in both pain from his ear being dragged and from trying to prove his innocence.

          "Mr. Weasely, what are you doing here?" Snape snapped.

          "I, uh, am just helping Dumbledore with something."

          "Outside the girl's lavatory?" he shook his head in disgust.  "Where is Dumbledore?"

          "In the Great Hall, but he is busy, Professor-"  Too late.  Snape was pulling a protesting Neville Longbottom to the Great Hall.

          "Please, Professor!"

          "Shut up!"  He had been angrier than usual the past two months, and had negative patience for anybody.  Snape had even exploded at a few students from his own house.  He marched right through the double doors into the Great Hall.

          "Something wrong, Severus?" Albus asked with a smile.

          "Mr. Longbottom here," he began with clenched teeth, "Has managed to explode half my classroom.  Then he proceeded to fix it by using a dancing charm."

          "I see."  He spotted a shadow by the door.

          "I-I didn't mean to.  Honest!"

          "I want him out of my class!" Snape exclaimed as he finally released Neville's ear.

          "You cannot kick him out, Severus.  Next year he won't have to be in it if he does not pass his O.W.L.'s.  It is only a few more months."  Albus pushed his spectacles up on his nose.  "You may come in now, Ms. Wallace."

          Claudia poked her head from behind the door.  Had she heard correctly?  Of course she had.  How many were named Severus?  She absent mindedly put her arm around her womb and walked past the angry professor.  So that is what the man was really like!

          "I-I didn't mean to blow up the classroom, ma'am.  Honest!"  Neville repeated and looked at the woman with fear in his eyes.

          "I am not here for that, dear."  She touched his shoulder and tried not to pay too much attention to his odd attire.  Come to think of it, everyone was dressed in robes!  "I am here to paint your headmaster's portrait."

          "I've always wondered: how do you make them move?"

          She decided right then that maybe the boy was special.  How else could he blow up a classroom using (hopefully) controlled chemicals?

          "It's too tiring to always move about in pictures.  I had asked Ms. Wallace to paint a still picture."

          Did Dumbledore actually plan on letting the Muggle into their world? Snape wondered.  "Come on, Mr. Longbottom."

          "Nice meeting you," Neville said before being dragged away.  "Am I getting detention, Professor Snape?"

          "For a week, Mr. Longbottom, so hurry up!"

          "I apologize, Ms. Wallace.  Mr. Longbottom surely is an exceptional young man."

          "So he seems," Claudia replied still blushing from her close encounter with Snape.

          Dumbledore smiled up at the young woman.  "Please, sit."  He asked to look at her prints and commented approvingly of them.  "You are quite talented, Ms. Wallace."

          "Thank you."

          "I would like you to do my portrait.  Let us discuss payment in my office."

          "Y-Yes."  She followed him out the Great Hall to a long dark corridor.  Deja veux swept over her.  Her breath caught in her throat.  Where was he taking her?

          "Ms. Wallace?"

          "I cannot do this!  Excuse me!"  Claudia sprinted down the hall and tried to find her way back out the school.  _They are all Death Eaters, she realized.  _He was going to kill me!_  Nausea consumed her._

          She was lost.  All the hallways looked the same.  "How do I get out of this maze?" she wondered and nearly jumped her skin when a cat rubbed against her legs.

          "A student out of class, my sweet?"  Mr. Filch crept around the corner but only to come face to face with a Muggle.

          "Can you help me?  I've been lost for the past thirty minutes!" she exploded.

          "Where are you headed?"

          "Out!"

          "I have to get something first."  Filch stopped by his office searching for something which somehow turned out to be in his pockets.  "Ah, here I go—detention slips.  Personally, the hanging had more of an effect than detention, don't you think?"  He grinned at her revealing a very poor set of teeth.

          "O-On second thought, may I just use your phone?"

          "Phone?"

          "Yes.  To ring up a cab."

          "Er, no phones here.  Sorry."

          "What?  Please, just show me out," Claudia demanded feeling even more frightened than before.  Was this school really an asylum?

          "Hold on, hold on."  Argus checked his watch.  "Ah, thought so."

          "What is it?"

          "Almost time for supper."

          "Perhaps Ms. Wallace will honor us with her presence?" Dumbledore suggested.

          "I'm sorry.  I cannot stay here.  This is just too much!"  She felt weak from all her running around and not having lunch.  "I really would like to leave, if that is alright."

         "It gets dark here very early, and I am afraid that last stagecoach has left for the night," Albus informed.  "Please, at least join us for our feast."

          Professor McGonagall had been witnessing the ordeal and patted the guest on the arm.  "It is alright, dear."

          "No, it's not!  I really am tired and this school, or whatever it is, and and-" she stammered.

          "Calm down, Ms. Wallace," Dumbledore urged.  "I assure you that we mean no harm.  We have no intentions of hurting you."  His words did ease her and even cleared up her mind a little as well.

          "Albus, this is going too far!  She's an innocent Muggle!" Minerva argued.

          "Trust me, this is all for her own good."

          Her feet steered themselves directly to a seat at the staff table in the Great Hall.  She was so relaxed that the food magically appearing before her was not strange and even seeing all the oddly dressed students did not faze her at all.  Everything felt normal, only it wasn't.  Something about the situation was not right, but she did not mind.

          Everyone was laughing, talking, and eating.  All of it was hypnotizing.  Was she even really there eating roast chicken and mashed potatoes?

          "There she is!" Neville pointed to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  "That's the Muggle I saw earlier today."

          "I doubt she's just _any Muggle," Hermione commented.  "They are not allowed here."_

          "She's going to paint Dumbledore's portrait—and it won't move!"

          "I don't get it," Harry began.  "Why a Muggle?"

          "Snape didn't like it, either.  He game me double detention with Filch for the rest of the year, even though he said it was only for a week."  Neville sighed and picked at his food.  "He really scares me, you know."

          "He did seem angrier when he returned, if that's possible," input Ron.  "Snape even tried to give me detention because he saw Percy waiting by the girl's lavatory, but McGonagall stepped in.  Something's been bugging him."

          The room was getting warmer.  It kept spinning 'round and 'round.  Had she been poisoned?  Claudia stood up; her wooden chair scraped loudly on the stone floor.  "Excuse me, I am feeling faint."

          "Severus, since you are done, would you care to show our guest to her room for the night?"  Albus's old eyes twinkled behind his half moon spectacles.  "Room nineteen."

          Snape growled under his breath.  He had tried to finish early so he could leave, and instead he had to escort Ms. Wallace to her room.  "What did you do?" he hissed.

          "Nothing, Severus.  She is just exhausted from her day.  Maybe my soothing voice relaxed her a little too much."  In other words, the headmaster had secretly charmed her to be more at ease.  What was he playing at?

          "Come, Ms. Wallace," he ordered and led her out of the dining hall, but not without catching the eye of every student.  That alone angered him even more.  He was so caught up in his brisk walk that he did not notice Nearly Headless Nick.

          "Good evening," the ghost greeted and let his head hang from the stretched skin of his neck.  Sir Nick winced when Claudia yelped and backed into a wall.  "People these days . ."

          "What is it?" Snape barked startling the woman.  Apparently the charm had worn off and she hastily turned around bumping chests with the potions professor.  He was unfazed.

          "Sorry.  I-It," Claudia immediately pulled herself from him and blushed, "I thought I saw a ghost."

          "You probably did."  His pace quickened as he became more annoyed.  The woman was now a nuisance more so than ever.  No matter what, he could not shake himself from her.  Still, a piece of himself pitied her.  She hadn't asked for all that had happened to her, but she should be more careful!

          "Could you slow down?  My feet hurt."  Claudia stopped to lean against a wall, not aware that he ignored her request.  It hurt to see him again, but she'd be damned if he saw it!  He always had to be so cold, except for the time that they—_No!_  She would not think about it.  That was when he was a different man.  _No,_ she thought,_ he has always been this way.  I can see it now.  The anger in his eyes is old.  He holds it all in, trying to be grown up.  We're a lot alike . ._

          What in the Dark Lord's name was taking her so damn long?  "Are you coming?" he demanded.  "Your room is right here."  He folded his arms neatly over his chest and waited impatiently for her to hurry up.

          It was strange how something someone else's fault made that person quite so cold and full of hatred.  Claudia stood in the doorway.  "You're a Death Eater, aren't you?"

          His face quickly turned sour.  What did she know of Death Eaters?

          "And you work for You-Know-Who," she finished.  "But what did my death have to do with anything?"

          She knew more than he thought, but Albus didn't tell her.  He would've said Voldemort's name.  Snape remained silent.  He was too tired to deal with her at the moment.

          "That blond haired man, is that You-Know-Who?"

          "No," came a new voice.

          "Headmaster," Snape said.  They were all ushered into the room.

          "Severus was a Death Eater," he clicked the door shut, "_Was_."

          "Albus-"

          "I had him do this—posing as one, as a favor to me.  And it was on one of these favors he had the unfortunate meeting of you, though personally I think meeting someone as lovely as you, Ms. Wallace, would make my day progress a little more smoothly."

          "Why would he be doing this?  What are the Death Eaters?" she inquired.

          "They are people who have abused their knowledge to serve the one you know as You-Know-Who."

          "Terrorists."

          "More or less," he agreed.  "Please keep all this to yourself, Ms. Wallace, for my staff is even unaware of this recent development.  Good night, Ms. Wallace."  With that, he closed the door behind him.  Another click followed.

          _He's locked us in!  That man is daft!_  Claudia tugged effortlessly on the handle.

          "What are you doing?" Snape asked.

          "We're locked in!"

          "What?"  He stood behind her and snaked his arms around either side of her.  One hand tweeked with the lock while the other tried at the handle.  He breathed in deeply, inhaling the sweet perfume she wore.  "You smell nice."  The words slipped from his mouth before he realized what was being said.

          "Don't touch me!" she shrieked and escaped from his grasp.  She relaxed into the wall and tried to fight back the tears that threatened her.  "Don't touch me . ."

          "Ms. Wallace," he started unaware of something slipping from his robes.

          "I don't want to hear it!  You're not-" she choked on her words.

          "You need to know the truth," Severus whispered.  "That's why you're here."  It all made sense to him.  She couldn't live in fear forever.  "You deserve to know."

          "No."  She swallowed hard.  "You've had to have killed as a Death Eater, I know it.  Would you have killed if it hadn't been me?"

          He had never thought about it that way.  "I do not know," he admitted, "But I was never going to let you die."

          "You expect me to believe that?!" she exploded.  Claudia was not ready for him to approach her as quickly as he did.  "You waited until the last second!"

          He had waited too long.  Why?  "You need to know why-"  A hand flew towards his face.  He captured it and grabbed her other wrist holding them high above her head.

          "Let me go!"

          "Not until you let me tell you."  He was too exhausted, too worn out, too thin.

          "I don't want to know the truth if it is so terrible I have to be tricked into coming here and locked in a room with you!"

          "Terrible?" he repeated.  Yes, the truth was terrible.  "It is important."

          "Let me go!" she shouted, looking at the floor where her tears had fallen.

          "Will you all me to speak?"  Severus could not keep arguing anymore.

          "Will you release me?" she countered, finally meeting his gaze.  He did.  Claudia wiped the stray strands of hair from her damp face.  "I'm not going to crawl back to you just because you tell me the truth.  I don't want to hear it; I don't care to know it.  Nothing you say or do can correct your mistake.  You are no better than Michael."

          It was his turn to become emotional.  "It was not my fault!"  Snape held his head heavy in his hands.  "Please . ."

          "Since when did you start to care what I thought of you?  I know it never crossed your mind the few times I did see you, a month in between each encounter!  You made no effort to show any interest.  Then you have a choice:  kill me or save me, either way causing pain."

          "You told me not to kill you," he bitterly reminded, falling tiredly into a chair.  "I did what you wanted."

          "What I wanted?!" she echoed.  "So it made no difference to you, did it?"

          "Listen, I have told you countless times, I was never going to let you die!  You let Malofy brainwash you with his words!"

         "I find it hard to believe that you'd agree to go to meet that other man if you knew what it had to entail, being a former Death Eater and all!"

          "Does it bother you so much that you must carry on like one of my students?"

          "I should have known."  Claudia wiped the tears from her eyes.  "I don't want you in my child's life being the type of man and so-called professor you are."

          "You cannot control that," he argued his words much softer than before.  Snape knew that regardless he'd end up teaching his future child.

          "I can take you to court!"

          "For what?  Who'd believe you?  You don't eve n know the whole story!  But you don't care to know because you think you're too goddamn good to hear it—you and your stubborn nobility and pride!"

          "I beg your pardon?!"

          Snape arched an eyebrow at her in mock interest.  "Has no one ever spoken to you that way before?"

          "I am going to get out of this room if it is the last thing I do!"

          "Go ahead and try.  Dumbledore is not a man to take for a fool.  It will be impossible to escape before morning."

          Claudia hated how he could remain so calm about the situation.  "What makes you so sure?"

          "I have known him for twenty three years—since I started this school."  He was glad when she finally shut up so he could rest his eyes.  It wasn't before too long when he heard an odd sound coming from the door.  "Just what are you doing?" he asked without even cracking an eye open.

          "Escaping," she curtly replied shoving something through the hole in the lock.

          "How?"

          "Wouldn't you like to know?  Damn, it's going to break."  She shoved the stick harder into the key hole.

          Snape finally opened his eyes and tried to make out what she was holding.  His hands immediately searched his pockets.  It was missing!  "Stop!" he yelled, but it was too late.

          His precious fist and only wand splintered into several pieces, the tip still lodged in the door.

          "You've just ruined _any chance we might've had away!"  Severus ran over to his broken wand and stared at it in horror._

          "By breaking a stick?"  A smile tugged at her lips.  Was he getting sentimental over apiece of polished wood?  "You said earlier that it was impossible to get out.  All I did was try to pick the lock with that stick."

          "Stick?" he repeated, his blood boiling.  "STICK?!"

          "Yes."

          "This is no ordinary stick!" he burst, so angry that he found it hard to breathe.

          "It's not a stick anymore."

          He ignored her.  "I-I can't believe you broke it!"  Snape tried desperately to piece his wand back together, but it was useless.  He'd have to purchase another one.  "Do you know what this is?"

          "A stick?" she asked, not quite seeing what he was doing.  "I did not mean to break it, only to get away from you."

          "And I had no intention of ever killing you; I was just portraying a Death Eater to save lives."

          "You can't compare the two!" she disputed.  "And what do you mean by 'saving lives'?"

          "What do you care?  You live in your own sheltered world," he spat, completely distraught over the permanent loss of the only thing he could count on to never fail him.

          "No, I don't!" she replied hotly.

         "So you want to know the truth?" Snape asked, pleased to see that his reverse psychology was working.

          "I want you to explain to me what you meant by saving lives," she corrected.

          "I can't tell you that without telling you the truth."

          "Do I want to know it?"

          "Probably not," he admitted.

          Claudia slumped to her knees and bit back her tears.  "I don't want to know, but," she sighed, "I have no choice, do I?"

          "You do have a choice.  If you do not like what you've been told, I can make you forget everything that has happened and you can go back to your sheltered life.  But, if you do decide to accept the truth and keep it to yourself, you can be as you are now."

          "How can you help me forget?"

          "You will see."

          "And, if I do decide I don't like it, what about our child?"

          He hadn't thought of that, he did not want to.  "I don't know."  Snape sat on the floor next to her.  "Do you want me heal away your memories?"

          Was that what she wanted?  Needed?  A tear escaped and trailed down her cheek.  "I just want to go home and wake up on my bed.  I want all of this to be a dream."

          Pain stained his face.  He could not perform a very effective _obliviate_ without his wand.  He was hoping she would not choose to forget, especially since when he'd have to see her again in just less than twelve years as the professor of his own child.  No one would even know.  A sigh escaped his lips.  He was going to hate doing this.

Yes, sadly, that is the end of this story.  There, obviously, is an opening for an epilogue.  I have started writing it, but I do not know if I would like to continue with it.  This entire story had been written over a period of about two consecutive months, I just had lost the notebook and that's why it had taken me quite so long to update it.  As for the epilogue, I have only started it, it is not completed nor anywhere near completion.  I hope that you have enjoyed this story!  Thank you so much for reading it!

~ann no aku


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